


a trail of hope

by flailingthroughsanity



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Eventual Romance, Future Fic, Gen, M/M, Plotty, Post S8, Post-Canon, Post-War, Survival, Worldbuilding, pining Sheith
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-29 13:37:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18779347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flailingthroughsanity/pseuds/flailingthroughsanity
Summary: Years after the Terran-Galran War, Keith - now a Senior Blade - reunites with an old ally during a joint operation between the Blade of Marmora and the ATLAS Initiative. It has been a decade since Keith last saw Takashi Shirogane - the man he had loved and lost - who now leads as Admiral of the Fleet. Keith was content to finish the mission as soon as possible and returning to his self-imposed exile but things are never easy.What had been a simple supply drop mission for refugees on a battle-ravaged fringe planet leads to a plot intent on destabilizing both parties, and reigniting the engines of war.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was initially a Twitter fic thread I started today, but the original concept went in a different direction and I realized that it became a veritable story that was going to be long (too long for a thread, anyway). This is the first chapter - something short for now. Hopefully, I can get a move on the next one soon and have it at decent length.
> 
> I was also planning for this to be a one-shot (like the rest of my extremely lengthy one-shots) but I decided to make this a chaptered story as to build commitment in myself, and to give it resting points. Last time I wrote non-stop for a lengthy oneshot (54k!) I had a major burn out lol
> 
> There will be a few original characters here and there, but they are not the main focus (obviously). Also, I made a distinct Star Wars reference here, so cookies for who gets it!
> 
> Tags and rating may also be subject to change, but for those who want to be sure: I will be changing them when canon-typical violence, smut and possible character death may occur.

It happened too fast—too fast for Keith's liking. The mission was a metal plate at the pit of his stomach, a dread Keith has been trying to avoid for so long. He couldn't refuse when Kolivan gave the order - he knew that neither their leader nor the others wanted to do this to him just for the sake of their amusement. Keith knew the other Blades were aware of what he had felt for Shiro, especially his mother.

But the Blade of Marmora was too understaffed, and their numbers were scattered across multiple star sectors, all trying to put out the fire and blood from the jackboot of Galran aggression.

Keith didn't want to see Shiro—not again, not after the celebration on New Altea. It had been too much: too painful, too heavy on his chest, too much of things that had his throat going dry and his hands scrambling for hold.

“I know that it's difficult," Krolia had said, voice cracking over the intercom, "and I know that you're strong enough to do this, but tell me and I'll go, instead."

Keith badly wanted to say 'yes' - to say 'Krolia, I can't do this' or better (or worse), 'Mom, it hurts'.

But Keith was a warrior, and even if the bitter groove of the dagger had tattooed itself into the skin of his palm with a sharpness ready to draw blood, he knew how to bite his tongue and accept that life is just one clusterfuck ready to blow him to bits.

"Send me the coordinates." Kolivan nodded at his request, and Keith ignored the concern in Krolia's eyes. It was just a supply drop mission, and B.O.M was just there to smooth out relations between ATLAS and the refugees on Balmorra. Quick, easy - and he'll be gone in a sec.

He didn't need to see Shiro, even if the rock in his belly turned to a boulder knowing that his one-time best friend was personally overseeing the mission. Keith didn't need to talk to him, and he didn't need to rip festering wounds open just to appease the temptation of looking into those taupe eyes and his heart skedaddling from roost to free fall.

"Somethin' wrong, boss?" One of their new recruits, Akosha, called from the cockpit.

Keith shook his head. "It's nothing."

Even the lie tasted like shit in his mouth.

The transit from the quadrants Keith's team was safeguarding to the still-ravaged, war-torn Balmorra was too fast for his liking. He didn't admit - neither to the others nor to himself - how much he wished that it could have taken days, weeks, fucking YEARS, for him to be ready because - with Balmorra's silhouette growing bigger at every burst of the thrusters - he's not.

He's not fucking ready to see Shiro again.

He's not ready to let the whole fucking universe know that he hasn't moved on, not one bit.

Not at all.

He's married, he thought bitterly. He's married and he's happy and the decade of no contact, zero messages, was a goddamn message in itself. He doesn't want you in his life anymore.

Then why did you accept the mission? Another part asked, and Keith shut his eyes.

There was an answer - an answer and a question, and two-thirds of a paragraph and fourteen hundred transmissions recorded in the darkest parts of space, all unsent because Keith's not fucking strong enough to let them go.

Let him go.

"Balmorra in sight, opening comms line." Akosha, their pilot, voiced out.

Their marksman, Vadir, pushed himself off the cabin wall, whistling at the view of the planet. "The capital's still in ruins. How can anyone last long out here?

"You just do." Keith grunted.

When the entire universe kicks you the ground and presses a gun to the back of your head, you just shut up and keep going. A bullet doesn't care about your sentiments and your little plea bargains or the family you've made for yourself.

It was always survival. Keith _will_ survive this.

"This is Keith Kogane, Senior Blade of the Blade of Marmora, requesting entry." The comms line crackled, before a cheery voice that Keith didn't expect to hear again echoed in the cockpit of the ship.

"Sounds impressive," Matt Holt greeted. "Glad to hear from you again, Keith."

It took a while for Keith to respond, hand gripping the back of Akosha's seat tightly. "Matt."

There was a chuckle, before Matt's voice crackled again. "It's Lieutenant Commander Holt now, but I'm still Matt to old friends."

"I-I see." Keith cleared his throat.

Awkwardly, he continued. "Do we have permission to land, Lieutenant Commander?"

A tired sigh echoed. "Christ, Keith, you don't have to sound like Shiro."

The name was a dumpster, a fire truck and an entire battleship ramming into his chest that Keith could only suck in a breath and pretend that it didn't tear him apart on the spot. He had no words, nothing to say at all and Keith glared at the greyed-out atmosphere of Balmorra, ignoring the looks from Akosha and Vadir.

Another sigh. "Permission granted. Welcome to Balmorra."

"Thank you," Keith paused, biting his tongue. "Matt."

"Not a problem, kid." The other said, and Keith was too - too _unready_ to be bothered by the kid comment. "I missed ya, you know."

Keith nodded, even if Matt can't see it.

"I know he missed you, too."

Keith couldn't stop himself from shutting his eyes, breathing tightly, feeling the world-heavy implications in that sentence, density overthrowing even a thousand Balmorras. He didn’t need to hear that — not at all. Matt didn’t need to say it but he did, and Keith couldn’t stop thinking about it now.

Keith leaned and cut the comms line close, voice rough. "Get us down."

He turned, and walked away.

 

* * *

 

The moment he felt the ship touch ground — the engines sputtering, the entire hold trembling as gravity kept them down and Akosha's voice through the intercom - Keith let his arm hang listlessly at his side, ignoring the pain swelling from his knuckles.

Didn't matter.

No matter how many times he punched the cabin hold walls, no matter how red the skin on his hand grew, it didn't change the needle-prick, ice-cold heaviness from pushing the blood out of his veins.

"You've lasted ten fucking years, Kogane." He said to himself, harshly. "You can last a few more days."

Even if it killed him - even if it will end with him walking away feeling less of himself every goddamn time he thought of Shiro, even if the decade he spent trying to fix himself again blew into bits the moment he saw those eyes - even then. He'll survive. He's made do with worse. It's just one thing, one stop in an infinite line of stops.

He'll make do.

Balmorra was, surprisingly, like Earth - if Keith could still recall how being on Earth felt. He had spent far too long in deep space, on multiple planets in varying star systems with their own quirky climates that he almost forgot he had grown up in Texas, of all places. The planet was mostly desert-like, the overall climate bordering on the uncomfortably hot.

It wasn’t always like this, Keith knew. From the database of the B.O.M ship, Balmorra used to be a lush, thriving planet. A veritable Earth in itself, like so many others across the galaxies — and it had life, a society, a civilization.

All lost under the crimson fire of battleship cannons.

He turned to his two companions, both Galrans who had lived under Zarkon's oppressive rule - and he smiled to himself as they stood, ears twitching as they acclimated themselves to the arid planet.

"I can still smell blaster fuel in the air." Vadir noted, and Keith agreed. Even being half-Galran, predominantly human — Keith can smell more than just the stale air. There was a lot of toxicity in, and most of it resembled the smell he’d get when infiltrating Galran munitions depots.

The entire place was still reeling from the war — and even the space platform they landed in still bore marks of battle. The steel walls were covered in scorch marks, those still visible underneath the rust from the constant shifting desert wind. When the communications array twisted above the control tower, it made a creaking noise that had Keith half-fearing it might come loose.

A few of the natives, Balmorrans, eyed them wearily — gaze directed more on Akosha and Vadir. Humanoid, with unusual gold eyes and slight horns by the temples, they might have seemed threatening back when Keith was still in the Garrison — but there was no hiding the fear on their faces when Akosha turned to them in curiosity.

Keith understood, though, how horror can burrow so deep it was impossible to claw it out.

"Let's go," he threw over his shoulder, hand making sure that his dagger was still strapped to his waist and keeping his hood up.

He could see Sobrik, the capital city, even from this distance. The skyline was distinct — and the remaining upright buildings were dark. They might have been a different color, way back, but under blaster fire, everything turns to black. He's never been to this planet before the war, before the devastation — but he could imagine the tall towers, the alien designs - all of it, left in debris and charred steel foundations.

Smoke still trailed from the city.

"This place was hit hard." Keith commented as they headed down from the platform, taking the lift.

Vadir crossed his arms, mask off and his rifle holstered. "Sure was. The entire planet was orbital bombed by three battleships. I'm surprised there's still life. Miserable, but still living."

"I'm surprised there's still a Balmorra." Akosha grunted, checking her pistol. "Hopefully, what ATLAS has is enough to keep things going. Rehabilitating this planet will take a long time, probably twice my lifetime."

Keith didn't answer, eyes gazing at  the ground down at the foot of the station as a speeder arrived. The guards, natives, eased their stances and holstered their weapons at sight and Keith saw a familiar face step out.

"Hey," Matt greeted, arms crossed over his chest. He was in a dark brown coat, hair in a ponytail. Underneath, Keith could spy the uniform of the ATLAS Initiative. Dust in his face, boots looking worn — he seemed busy. Keith nodded, grateful for the shade his hood provided as the nearby sun continued to beat down on them. "Jesus, Keith, you look terrifying."

Keith guessed he must - dressed in full B.O.M regalia. After the war, B.O.M changed their colors - opting for a darker palette. A sign of mourning, Kolivan said. A testament to the sacrifice of so many lives. Many of the Blades had long given their lives, battling Zarkon’s reign for ten thousand years — most of them joining their predecessors after Haggar unleashing her Druids on them.

It wasn’t just the war-torn planets rebuilding. Even the Blades were rebuilding — shepherding the remaining Galrans clustered around former Imperial space.

Introductions were made, with Matt smiling perfunctorily at Akosha and Vadir, who only nodded in return. Keith didn't care for their frosty reception - he wasn't feeling particularly happy to be here, even if the sight of Matt pulled a small smile from his lips.

They were here on a mission, Keith reminded himself. This wasn't a reunion. It was far too long for one — and Keith didn’t think he was welcome to one, anymore.

It wasn't like this was the first time Keith's denied going to one, anyway. Lance had stopped trying to get him to visit - his last invitation over two years ago. This was a job.

In, out and gone.

The first few minutes of the ride back to Sobrik was quiet - almost painfully so. Keith had chosen to seat himself across Matt, while the other two settled on the adjacent seats. Keith was grateful to be in it, though. The way the wind was whipping on the reinforced glass, and the sand piling up outside - Keith could go without. The problem was, in doors, there was no need to keep his hood up.

Matt's pointed gaze thought so.

Akosha and Vadir had put theirs down. Matt had removed his sunglasses — a memento of Earth that Keith tried so hard to forget. He hoped his fringe and the hood was obscure enough for Matt's sharp gaze. Keith wasn't used to this much scrutiny, especially from a ghost of his past.

"How have you been?" Matt finally asked, and Keith had to admit it was a welcome distraction from the dread in his stomach as Sobrik's skyline grew bigger and closer.

"Okay." Keith answered, unsure of what else to say. "You?"

Matt didn't reply immediately his eyes growing hard for a moment before Matt looked away, brows furrowed. "Doing well, actually. N's out with Olia on recon. Mom and Dad are back on Earth. Pidge is on Olkarion with the Coalition, heading their R&D division. Guess things are looking up."

Keith nodded, not knowing what else to say. "That's good."

It was another quiet moment, with Matt turning back to look at him. The small grew stale on his face and Keith didn't know how to react to that.

"Dude," the word was a surprise, and Keith blinked at Matt. The other continued. "We haven't seen you in ten years, and that's all that you have to say?"

Keith bit his lip, back ramrod straight as he turned to look at Sobrik, the city perimeter gates now close. "Apologies, but we can't talk about Blade activities."

He could feel Matt's gaze boring into the side of his head, even through the hood. Keith cleared his throat. "I am happy to hear that everyone is doing well, at least."

He also ignored the fact that Akosha and Vadir were also giving him looks.

Keith was saved from further scrutiny as Matt turned in his seat to greet the perimeter guard, allowing them entrance once they recognized him. There was a beep and Keith watched as Matt raised his arm, the communicator on his wrist flashing.

"We just arrived," Matt said, not bothering to lower his voice. Keith told himself he wasn't listening intently to the other. "The Blades are with me, and we'll head up to HQ ASAP."

"Affirmative. I'll see you in a bit." Keith blinked too fast, looking away.

Even through the static, Shiro's voice was clear and Keith breathed deep. Goddamn it, he was not ready for this at all.

He fucking hoped Matt hadn't noticed. When the communicator clicked, and Matt didn't say anything, Keith could almost believe it - but the other's gaze spoke too much.

God, this was going to be a long mission.

When they disembarked, Matt was the first one out. Before Keith could follow, Akosha grunted from his side. "You're actin' weird, boss."

Vadir chuckled from the side. "For an old friend, it's like you almost didn't know who he was."

"Can it, both of you." Keith bit out. "The faster we get this over with, the better."

Not waiting for a response from the two, Keith stepped out of the speeder and gazed up at the starship. It was one of the newer creations of the ATLAS Initiative - a flagship that was meant to embody the ideals of a peacekeeping organization. It gleamed white under the sun, long enough to cover multiple skyscrapers side by side.

"Sir," Keith turned to see a soldier walk up to Matt. "Admiral Shirogane wants to see you and the Blades in his office."

"Haven't even been here long enough and this Shirogane guy is already giving out orders." Akosha murmured from his side. Keith bit his lip, watching Matt turn to him for a moment before nodding.

The inside of the ship - the ATHENA - reminded him too much of the ATLAS, the varying colors of the uniform bringing back memories he dearly wished he could forgot. He had worn one of those, had felt a kinship and a bond with the rest.

Scarlet, green, blue, orange - Keith saw too many familiar colors, the memories clouding the looks of appraisal and wariness thrown their way from the other cadets and officers.

He didn't see a black uniform. Only one wore that, and they were making their way to his office.

Would he—Keith swallowed. Would Shiro still be wearing that? That black uniform that showed off his impeccable shape, the breadth of his shoulders and the length of his torso?

That uniform that encapsulated the power and authority he brought with him everywhere?

God, the uniform that turned on Keith so much, he had spent nights spilling into his hand at the thought of Shiro in all of that.

Immediately, a well of shame overturned the flush of his cheeks and he kept his head down. It was shame, he knew.

Not hurt, not loneliness. None of that.

When the elevator arrived at their destination, Matt stepped out first, and the Blades followed. The guards standing by the doors nodded at Matt and Keith kept his head down enough to obscure some of his face, eyeing the thrum of people moving about.

It was disconcerting, a bit, to see these many humans around. It's been so long since he last saw one - other than himself - that it felt weird, distanced. Keith looked around, watching officers and cadets point at screens glowing, others running with tablets.

A few heads turned their way, watching Matt lead three figures - a human, two Galrans - dressed in clashes of black and red. Keith could understand the hesitation he saw in their eyes, behind the confusion of seeing a human in the Blades' uniform.

They headed up the platform raised meters from the rest, to a balcony where Keith noted many of the senior officers were. They were in their posts, giving out orders and Keith recognized a few of the terms, the planets mentioned. The ATHENA, apparently, was a very mobile headquarters.

It had to be, if the Admiral of the ATLAS Initiative was here.

Keith swallowed, allowing himself to look up and immediately regretting it—because Shiro was standing, gaze unwavering, as Matt led them forward.

Keith didn't know how he managed to keep himself up, keep himself able and walking as they made their way to Shiro. God, he still looked—

"Matt."

Keith trembled, hearing that voice for the first time in ten fucking years, that he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.

"Blades, welcome."

Keith swallowed. Goddamn it, he had to speak. He was the senior officer here. He had to show some backbone - some fucking sign that he wasn't as obliterated as he felt, that hearing Shiro's voice was like lightning rout through him, leaving him in cinders.

Keith looked up, and he fought to keep his gaze up as shock flashed in Shiro's beautiful taupe eyes. "K-Keith?"

"Admiral." He answered back, hands fisted at his side, 'breathe in, breathe out' echoing in his mind over and over.

There was silence, Shiro staring at him like—like Keith had two heads instead of one, like Keith was a ghost who just came back into his life, like Keith was a blizzard sweeping in over a long-dry dessert - one terrible storm for another.

Keith kept his gaze up, ignoring the way his heart banged against his ribs.

Shiro...Shiro looked older. There were lines under his eyes, and his silver hair was swept neatly to the side. The light made it difficult to see, but Keith noted the fine, delicate hair running down the side of the man's jaws down his chin.

He looked older, dignified—and still everything Keith had ever fucking wanted.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't goddamn fair.

"I didn't," Shiro started, voice weird before he cleared his throat. The formal tone returned, and Keith allowed himself to relax. He can do civil. Barely, but he can do it. "I didn't expect this. Kolivan hadn't mentioned it."

"Apologies." Keith paused, thinking his words over. "My team was the closest to this sector, and with our numbers, this was the most efficient choice."

Shiro didn't break eye contact with him throughout the entire thing.

See? He thought. I could hold a conversation with him and not feel like dying. The growing pit and the opening wounds and the urge to turn away and hide was just his imagination. Really.

"I understand." Shiro answered, nodding. He turned to Matt for a bit, sharing a gaze. "Still, it is good to see you again."

Keith was—he wasn't sure of the things that would come spewing out of his lips if he gave himself the chance, the slightest opening, to be honest with himself. He ignored the last comment and nodded, shifting the conversation elsewhere.

"What's the situation here, Admiral?"

There was an awkward silence following that - maybe it was because Akosha and Vadir shifting behind him, unsure of their leader's behavior. Maybe it was Matt turning to Shiro, some expression Keith didn't allow himself to dissect on his face.

Maybe it was Shiro's gentle smile falling flat, and the flash of hurt in his eyes, following Keith's words or maybe it was that Keith immediately turned to look at the ruined Sobrik city through the glass plating of the ATHENA's viewing deck.

Keith didn't really care for the reasoning, because he was moving heaven and earth trying to keep himself together from breaking apart under Shiro's gaze. God fucking damn it, ten years didn't work.

Who was he kidding? Ten years couldn't erase an entire lifetime's worth of fucking heartache and longing.

Ah, yes," Shiro cleared his throat once more, and Keith couldn't help but note his movements from the peripheries of his vision, watching the man turn to the desk. "There have been some developments that we need to discuss first."

Shiro gestured to the seats around his desk, and Keith paused, nodding at his two subordinates. He sat last, and tried not to notice that he was on the seat closest to the desk, the closest he's been to Shiro in ten years.

He takes a deep breath, and he smells cedar.

His hand almost comes up to his mouth, and he presses his thumbnail into his palm hard enough to keep it still because Shiro still fucking smells the same. He smells like cedar - he smells like earth, and familiarity, warmth. A place he once called home.

Shiro placed a hand on his desk - the left one, the human one - and Keith told himself he wasn't mapping the length of it, knowing the scars on it, the way it felt on his skin, how Keith wanted on him in a way that was just wrong, that wasn't right because Shiro was married.

Keith paused, taking in his hand. Wait—

"Our scouts," Shiro started and Keith looked up. The other was facing him, and Keith couldn't deal with that - not yet, not ever - so he settled with keeping his gaze on the gold trim of his rank by his shoulder. "Have reported that our supply caches have been repeatedly looted. A few of our transports bringing in food and medicine have been hijacked. Seems the situation here is a lot more sensitive than we expected."

"Thieves?" Vadir voiced from the side. Shiro turned from Keith and to the marksman.

"We thought so, too, until we discovered that there were recorded messages left. We couldn't identify the source, but the content was the same. They want us out of here."

Keith frowned, crossing his arms. "Aren't supply transports protected?"

Shiro sighed, nodding.

"They usually are. Automated, to minimize casualties. But the systems are often left fried. It's why we thought that this was more than simple thievery. Thieves don't walk around with EMP grenades."

"Why not utilize your security forces?" Akosha spoke, hand gesturing to the busy room. "From what we've gathered, you have enough soldiers to form a small army here."

"There's something else, is there?" Keith spoke, eyeing the frustration in the way Shiro's hand tightened.

He watched the other nod, looking to Matt for a bit. Keith noted the paleness of his features, offset by the blue glow of his repulsor arm. "We can't mobilize our troops here - doing so would come off as aggressive. We're here as support, not an occupational force."

"Admiral's right." Another voice spoke, and Keith tensed, turning his head to watch another person walk up. He was older, probably the oldest between all of them here - dressed in what seemed like an older uniform. Balmorran, Keith guessed, noting the unusual gold eyes and the slight horns on the side of the temples. Humanoid, could pass off as a man in a costume if he were to be honest.

"Everyone, this is Ceyk," Shiro said, standing. "He's the Balmorran representative to our Coalition and our point of contact with their government."

Greetings were made, and Keith kept an eye on the newcomer even as Shiro continued. "Sobrik is the only secure point in this planet, and while we try to help the city recover, we're not the only ones here. We've had trouble with a few...belligerent forces wanting us out."

"They can't help it," Ceyk said. "Before the war, we were a peaceful people. Then the Galrans arrived and committed mass genocide, driving us to the point of extinction. Now, we have this Coalition breathing down our necks. You understand the tension of your presence here."

Shiro's voice was hard when he responded. "Yes, but we are also the ones trying to help the Balmorrans, Ceyk. We can't do that if our efforts are sabotaged."

Keith noted that Shiro sounded like he was rehearsing an argument that's been thrown over and over.

The Balmorran raised his hands in an open gesture. "Which we respect, Admiral, but this repetitive debate will not help us any more than bringing Galrans back to our planet will help you."

Keith didn't say anything, noting the gesture thrown their way.

"These are our comrades, commander." Shiro said. "Without them, we would all be under Galran control by now. Anyhow—“

He stood, and everyone else followed. Shiro gave Ceyk a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"We appreciate you visiting us, Ceyk, however our comrades just arrived and I'm sure they would like to retire first before we deal with everything else."

Keith knew a diversion when he heard one, and he kept quiet as Ceyk nodded and agreed before leaving. He eyed the Balmorran, watching him walk down the steps, pulled away as Shiro continued. "I just wanted him to leave. Still, you all must be tired from your journey."

Keith looked up at Shiro, watching the man look at the other Blades before making eye-contact with Keith.

Keith shrugged, hood moving with his nod. "We adjust."

The smile that didn't reach his eyes was back, and Keith didn't know why it clawed at him the way it should. Shiro shook his head. "Matt can direct you to your cabins, if you want."

Keith paused, taking in the tired line of Shiro's shoulders - the hair falling into his eyes, and the way he ran a hand down his face, breathing out. A part of Keith almost reached out, wanting to touch - to let the other know he was here, that Shiro could rely on him for once—

Keith swallowed, looking away. He nodded at Akosha and Vadir before returning his gaze. "Thank you, Admiral."

Shiro sat back down, and he looked a hundred times older. "I refuse to believe ten years made you forget who I am, Keith."

There was sadness in those eyes and Keith—Keith refused to believe the things he was seeing. Chances were, it was just a mixture of hope and what he made himself believe was there.

Because Shiro was right, ten years was impossible to make him forget who Shiro was.

Even a million years wouldn't do, because trying to forget Shiro was trying to forget who Keith was, too; who Keith was, his identity - it's one of the few things he could still hold on to.

Of course not."

Shiro's eyes, tired, refused to leave his gaze. "Then why aren't you calling me by my name?"

Keith gave him a smile - made entirely of muscle movement and nothing else before turning away and following Matt down the stairs. Things have changed too much, and Keith can't pretend that he's fine with going back to how they were. This was a mission.

In and out, and gone. Better to leave things this way.

 

* * *

 

The halls of the ATHENA were lined in neon blue, lighting the white-grey palettes of the steel walls and sliding doors. Keith had no idea where Matt was leading them, but he kept his gaze about – eyeing the cadets and officers, noting the way they reacted to the Blades in the hallway.

Matt kept a steady chatter on the ATHENA, with Keith responding every now and then. Akosha kept up with him, though, and Keith took to note the areas Matt was mentioning. A couple of air vents lined the ceiling of the hallway, and he eyed the magnetic repulsors keeping them shut.

They came up to a lift, where a guard who stood nodded at Matt, before he pressed his hand to the biometrics machine – opening the doors.  Seemed all the lifts were secured, and only authorized personnel could access them.

Keith was taking in possible escape paths, no doubt that other two Blades were doing the same. Even if the ATLAS Initiative proved time and time again to be reliable allies, the Blade of Marmora was always meant to be inquisitive and questioning – immediate action done, if need be. It was easy for organizations named in peace to grow in number, for corruption to take control until it festered and grew into a totalitarian force – and with the wounds of the Galran Empire still fresh, the Blades had realigned themselves, intent on stuffing out possible destruction in the bud when possible.

 _Shiro’s not like that, though._ Keith thought, and he had to agree. Even if a decade had passed, and things had become distant between them, Keith could never imagine Shiro falling to a path like that. Not even in the bitterness Keith felt could he believe Shiro wasn’t the good person he wholeheartedly knew.

“We’re here.” Matt announced, and the doors opened to halls featuring the same design. However, instead of offices and work spaces – there were a series of biometric-locked sliding doors, names glowing above the scanner. Residential areas.

Fitting – the ATHENA was more than a starship. It was a flying base that could mobilize whenever needed. A counter-terrorism force that could head to several sectors, across a hundred parsecs when needed.

“So, we have on available room—“Matt said, pointing to one next to another where  **LIEUTENANT-COMMANDER MATTHEW HOLT** was on the scanner. “It has two bedrooms, so no need to snuggle up unless you want to. There’s also another room, but it’s not exactly empty.”

Keith frowned at him as Matt gestured to the room by the end of the hall, near the emergency exits. Keith paused, upon reading the scanner. **ADMIRAL TAKASHI SHIROGANE.**

He turned back, and saw the worry in the other’s eyes. “You’re serious.”

Akosha and Vadir glanced at the scanner and Keith ignored the way Akosha’s brows raised, a telling look in her purple yes. Vadir’s face was set, but Keith knew a hidden smirk when he saw one.

“No,” Matt rebutted, shaking his head. “Seriously, Keith. I was planning to change rooms and bunk with him, but N will be back in a few days and—“

Matt gestured weirdly with his hand while his cheeks flushed. Keith paused, recognizing the name and recalling the image of a feminine android Matt had been with – so long ago. Back when Keith was a paladin, and when things had been simpler.

He shook his head – he knew a lost cause the moment he saw one. It was just a few days.

He’ll get through it.

“Akosha, Vadir. Pair up. Keep your comms up and active all the time.”

Vadir threw a salute as Matt handed them keycards. “These will get you through your room and the common areas and lifts. Everywhere else is restricted, for security.”

“Of course.” Akosha grunted, a leer on her face as she took the keycard. Keith gave her a look – despite her youth and the innocent image she showed, he didn’t forget that the reason she was with the Blades in the first place. It wasn’t all the time that Kolivan would invite saboteurs into the fold, but for someone to break into a Blade of Marmora warship and go unnoticed within the first few days was a feat in itself.

He watched his two subordinates enter the room, the door sliding shut after. It was just him and Matt in the hallway now. Overhead, by the emergency exits, a thin glass window – no doubt reinforced and protected to keep solar flares out – allowed natural light in.

“I really didn’t plan this,” Matt said again, voice low as he turned to Keith. “I didn’t even know you were coming until you spoke on the intercom.”

He believed Matt, surprisingly. Keith didn’t believe in people a lot nowadays. It was easier to keep to himself and the Blades – they were his family now. “I know.”

“Keith,” Matt’s voice was frustrated, and Keith raised a brow at him. Of course, the other couldn’t see it – hidden under his fringe and hood. It seemed that was the source of concern, as Matt would grumble. “Can you put the damn hood down?”

Keith ignored the request, putting a gloved hand out. “It’s been a long journey.”

Matt looked at his hand, and up his face. There was a thunderous look in his eyes, and the set of his lips was angry. Keith let his hand fall, sighing as he turned away. He knew that Matt felt irritated by all the secrecy and the short responses, but it’s not like Keith found it easy—found being here again, easy. Knowing that he was going to spend the next few days in a city that seemed ready to blow up, face to face with someone he never wanted to see again and _living_ with them so closely – it was already difficult keeping himself and his feet together instead of bolting.

“I’m sorry, I—that was rude of me.” Matt continued, voice quiet. Keith nodded, turning back to find the older man with his hands by his side. He was looking at the scanner. “You don’t need a card.”

“Why?” Keith asked, tense.

Matt didn’t look at him. “Don’t need one. Put your hand on the scanner.”

Unsure, Keith looked at the scanner and back to Matt. It was quiet, the humming of the air regulators providing the backdrop. He couldn’t even hear Akosha and Vadir from their room – though he know they were both fine. Had something happened to them, the compiece in his ear would have sounded.

Carefully, Keith stepped forward, removing the glove from one hand. He knew Matt was looking at the scars on his hand, but he didn’t dignify that curiousity with a response – better to think of things that weren’t so ugly. Pressing his palm to the cold scanner, the machine beeped and his name appeared and the door opened.

** COMMODORE KEITH KOGANE **

“What is this?” Keith glared at him, ripping his hand away like the scanner burned him. Hurriedly, he returned the glove back and kept his hand close. Matt wasn’t looking at him – not in the eyes, at least.

“It was an old algorithm,” Matt explained quietly. “From when the ATHENA was still in construction and, well, it’s not just you. Pidge is registered here, Hunk and Lance are practically retired but they still have access to these areas. Even—“

Matt paused, eyes blinking too fast. Keith guessed, and his stomach lurched. “Even Allura?”

The other breathed deep. “Point is, the Paladins have always had access to this because—“

“Because Shiro wanted to.” Keith concluded, turning to look at the scanner again. “Why would he make me Commodore?”

“Maybe because he thought you’d come back?” Matt threw up. “Maybe he thought that you’d return and build the Initiative with him?”

“That’s ridiculous,” Keith pressed, crossing his arms. Even if the thought of it had elation running past the ice in his veins, Keith refused to believe it. Even if he wanted it, it wasn’t something for him. A lot of things here weren’t for him. Too many things. “Shiro knew I was with the Blades.”

“Maybe he thought you’d come back, change your mind.” The response was so quiet, Keith strained to hear it.

“That’s a lot of maybe’s, Matt.”

The other shrugged. “It’s hard to have a definite answer, anyway. Talking to you is like talking to a stranger now.”

Keith kept his face clean of any emotion, even if the words nettled far deeper than he expected. Matt was only being honest, painfully so. With nothing else to say, Keith watched him shrug once more and giving him an excuse of a smile.

“Well, I guess I’ll leave you to it, Blade.”

Keith nodded, uttering a word of thanks. Matt raised a hand up before walking off, back to the elevator. He watched the line of tension down the other’s back, and Keith swallowed tight before turning to the scanner once more.

Just a few days – just a mission in a long line of missions that will be over before he even knew it.

He pressed his hand to the scanner, and the doors opened.

In, and out, and gone.

 

* * *

 

Shiro’s room was quiet – well, it wasn’t a room as much as it was an apartment, whatever was the starship equivalent of an apartment, anyway. He was in the main area where a small sitting space was set up. An open kitchenette, steel-lined, and two sliding doors – bedrooms, he assumed. A lavatory to the side. It wasn’t terribly big but more than what Keith had expected, or was used to.

His ship’s cabin hold was probably one-fourth of this, settled next to the sleeping quarters that Akosha and Vadir occupied. He was used to slumming it up, and keeping his space small. This was an obscene luxury, in comparison.

Still, Keith wasn’t above enjoying it for what it was – even when his heart beat painfully in both joy and terror at how surrounded he was by everything that had Shiro’s name emblazoned on the surface.

Because it didn’t look cold and imposing, the room. It was homey, _lived_ in.

The couch facing an entertainment console had pillows on it, beaten and used. A steel cup was on the table bolted to it. There was divider to the far end of the wall, where glowing clear tablets were resting – electronic books, Keith guessed.

He saw a few plates and utensils by the kitchenette, and he knew the refrigerator wasn’t empty from the hum he was hearing.

Keith glanced around, walking close the window by the divider and tapping his knuckle against it. Highly reinforced glass – impossible to break unless the entire ship exploded, perhaps. Ballistics would do nothing to it, not from single-shot weaponry anyway. The ship was in durasteel, sturdy enough to take considerable damage from blaster fire – if it could get past the particle barrier, first. Keith knew there was one.

No doubt, the R&D division of the Voltron Coalition would have improved Terran technology from what they learned from the Lions. Seemed the room was stable, and secure enough. Only one door, allowing entry to specific people only.

He checked the bedroom first, and took a guess. The door to the right opened to a spartan room – a bed bolted to the ground, a desk and a chair moving with assistance from magnetic repulse. The overhead lights were closed, and a thin line of glass served as the only window. A dead end.

Keith pursed his lips, unsure of how to feel about that. He turned to the other door and stilled. Curiosity lingered in his stomach as he bit his lip, unable to help but imagine how Shiro’s room would look like. Was it just as spartan as his room – or would it be the way Keith remembered Shiro’s was in the Castle?

Shiro was neat, kept his room clean and even. The spaces bare and set aside in favor of his exercises when everybody else had been asleep. Keith had spent many nights then, talking to him – wanting to know where he had gone after that fateful Kerberos mission.

It almost seemed like a different life. A different Keith, and a different Shiro.

 _There’s probably a photo there_ , Keith thought. _A photo of Curtis on his desk, a jacket that Curtis loved to wear and one that Shiro slept with, the neckline pressed against his nose. Maybe transmission recordings from his husband, back on Earth. God, what if Curtis was—_

But the room was too quiet, and Keith hadn’t been secretive with his movements. If Curtis was in the room, he would have heard the noise and he would have made a sound. Keith didn’t have the courage to open the door, and turned away before the pit in his stomach could grow bigger.

The lavatory was decent – and Keith ignored the shower area to the side, and he was grateful to know that none of Shiro’s used clothes were lying around. He didn’t need to deal with _that_ , too. The door did open to the mirror above the sink, and the overhead lights must have been automated, flooding in fluorescent.

Keith blinked at his reflection, watching the black hood cover his face, resting over his shoulders. The black-crimson colors of the Blade uniform lent him an ominous air – and he understood the fear and wariness in other’s eyes when they caught sight of them.

Slowly, he stepped close, finally pulling the hood back. Keith raised a hand, glove curling over his neck to pull his braid out and over his shoulder. It was getting longer, falling to the middle of his back now. The hair by the sides of his face was longer too, falling past his jaw. Did a good job of hiding the scar on his cheek – the one from Shiro’s blade a decade ago.

He raised his hand, gently touching the skin around his left eye. The redness had long gone, leaving only an ugly scarring that will forever persist. He was simply grateful that he hadn’t lost his vision entirely – only a burn where a renegade druid’s magic had gone. Keith was still alive, and the druid’s corpse had turned to dust by now – head thrown into the emptiness of space. Keith won, and leaving with both eyes still working was a victory enough for him.

Keith swallowed, hearing the door open and knowing he wasn’t alone anymore. He turned and walked out, readying himself for who he’d meet. He didn’t see Curtis in the briefing room, or on the way up to the residences but that could be—

Keith stopped, just as door shut behind Shiro – who was stone still, eyes wide.

It’s only that he realized he had forgotten to put his hood up.

“I wanted to ask—“Shiro’s voice was awkward, unsure, as Keith hurried to put his hood back up. The other didn’t move, but Keith could see the tension in his body – the way the words sounded in Shiro’s voice.

Even if things had gotten too strange and distant between them, Keith could still recognize tells when it came from Shiro’s body. He saw the way the repulsor arm’s hand turned into a fist and the tightness of Shiro’s shoulder—knew that the other wanted to _ask_ , to narrow down the cause of the scar.

“Yes?” Keith voiced, trying to change the subject.

Shiro didn’t answer immediately, brows furrowed and Keith just can’t—he can’t deal with Shiro looking at him like that, with the concern glowing in his grey-taupe eyes that made Keith want to amble up in his space, press himself into Shiro’s arms and implant himself entirely until all their ends met.

Keith’s had to deal with all the regrets and the wants and everything else that had gone in the ten-year long absence, and he just needed Shiro not to – not to look at him like that.

Keith shifted his gaze to above Shiro’s shoulder.

The action must have said everything Shiro wanted to know, because he turned his head away and it was quiet between them – painfully so. A hundred words banged against the silence, wanting to be heard, but Keith kept his lips shut. This wasn’t the time.

There never will be a time for that.

“I just wanted to know if you wanted to get an early dinner.” Shiro spoke, quietly. “You can bring the others, if you want, but I was hoping to discuss something with you.”

Keith paused, allowing himself to relax. “Can we not discuss it here?”

There was a rueful smile on Shiro’s lips, and Keith watched the grey hair on his chin glint in the light. “We could, but there’s nothing in the fridge and I was hoping to get some air.”

Curious – he knew, from Matt earlier, that the canteen was indoors – Keith nodded. He looked away before he got too distracted by the genuine smile on Shiro’s face, no matter how small it was.

“I’ll just talk to Akosha and Vadir.” He said, already stepping away and towards the door. Shiro nodded before he raised a hand, as if he was about to put it on Keith’s shoulder, but stopped, mid-air. Keith paused, too, not knowing what to do – did he wait for Shiro, or should he just keep moving?

The smile on Shiro’s face trembled, before he slowly put his hand down and shook his head. “I’ll see you at the lifts in a bit?”

Keith nodded slowly. The sharp prickle he could feel from his back was coming from Shiro’s intent gaze, no doubt. When the door closed behind him, Keith allowed his head to lean back and rest against the steel for a bit.

“What are you doing, Keith?”

Only the silence answered him.

 

* * *

 

When Shiro met him at the lifts, Keith was alone. Akosha declined his offer to join him and Shiro for dinner, and Vadir was back on their ship, securing their communication channel. Keith knew they were lying through their teeth but nodded – he didn’t want to argue, and arguing only proved them right and him wrong. He’ll just have to bite his tongue and deal with it.

He had sent a transmission to Kolivan and Krolia but had yet to hear from them – it wasn’t unusual, considering even Kolivan was on the field with how few their numbers were.

Still, it was a thought he could focus on as Shiro appeared by his side. He was still dressed in his uniform, but the upper buttons were open, revealing neat white collars of a dress shirt underneath and gold skin. Keith swallowed and kept his eyes on the elevator doors.

When the lifts opened, both Keith and Shiro stepped forward at the same time – arms bumping. Keith stilled, pausing to let Shiro in first.

“No, it’s okay, you go on ahead.” Shiro said, smiling at him as he turned sideways, his front in Keith’s view. He shook his head, and he would have argued, but doing so would delay things. He knew Shiro.

He threw an apology over his shoulder and stepped in, pressing into the wall of the lift. Shiro followed after, and Keith breathed the scent of cedar coming off him. Shiro pressed a bare hand to the scanner to the side, and pressed an option on the screen – the floor above them. Funny, from the distance of the ground through windows – they were pretty high up.

“What’s on this floor?” Keith asked, curious – and willing to pepper the oppressive silence with something utterly mundane.

Shiro’s grin was evident in his voice – Keith couldn’t really confirm that, not wanting to turn to his direction. “Being the Admiral of the Fleet has its perks.”

Keith didn’t know what that meant, but kept his tongue in. He’ll end up knowing, one way or another – and when the door lifts opened, he had guessed correctly.

They were above the ATHENA – on the highest deck, above the command tower and the residential area. The deck was lined with steel railings, and the space was big enough to serve as a vantage point. He could see Sobrik below, the grey-lined buildings turned black in the fire and the blaster burns, still charred and smoking. The city was like a slowly festering wound on the brown earth, ash piling in the air, afternoon sunlight creasing through.

Keith looked around, noting the raised metal foundation that could serve as a potential seat. He was right, watching Shiro sitting down, a hand on the rail as he leaned against the steel wall. A leg was thrown over the raised dais, extended, while the other remained on the ground.

He followed, taking the one opposite Shiro’s – feeling the metal warm under him. This high up, where only the sunlight could reach them, Keith didn’t feel as contained as he had been the entire day – finally breathing in air. It was humid, but not stifling and the sunlight wasn’t hot enough to hurt – not the way it had gone from gold to orange, heralding dusk.

“This was supposed to be a communication array.” Keith noted, taking stock of the metal tube openings that were now closed over – the metal seemingly newer to the rest. He looked up at Shiro’s chuckle.

“Nothing much still escapes you, huh?” Shiro commented, corner of his lips quirking upward as he continued to stare into the distance. The flecks of his silver facial hair glinted gold in the light. Wind whipped into his hair, a few strands flying up. Keith’s chest panged tight. “It used to be, but once we got the Altean communicator installed in – there was no need for it up here. I changed the security levels, made it my space. A place to get away.”

The last sentence was almost whispered, and Keith opened his mouth – trying to find something to say – but no words came. He leaned back on the wall, and watched the sunset behind the city, watching the light cut through the remains.

“What was it that you wanted to discuss?” Keith finally said, feeling the breeze slip under his hood – a brief respite from the humidity.

“All business, then,” Shiro commented before he sat up, turning a bit to face him. He wasn’t sitting formally – his right foot was resting on the knee of his left, an arm thrust over the railing while the metal one settled over his thigh. Wind swept the hair into his face, and the unbuttoned lapel of his uniform swayed. He looked comfortable, open – _vulnerable_. Things Keith has never been, not in a long while.

Keith somehow found the courage not to look away.

“I need your help.” Grey-taupe eyes, serious, bore into his and the furrow of his brows spoke of exhaustion that Shiro was letting Keith see. He didn’t seem like an Admiral then, and Keith realized that it must have been exhausting to keep that appearance up in front of a hundred men and women who entrusted their lives to him.

“It’s why I’m here.”

Shiro’s eyes roved over his face at that, a hundred emotions Keith couldn’t even begin to guess flashing through the gold-lined grey-taupe. It always felt – disconcerting – to be under Shiro’s gaze, as if all the walls he had built could easily be swept away if the other chose to. Keith felt bare under that gaze, but looking away and hiding under his hood was a sign of weakness and Keith—

He didn’t want to give Shiro any more incentive to realize how much Keith’s had starved himself of contact, the memory of Shiro and the life he had turned his back on.

Things have happened – too many things have happened and Keith didn’t want to go back and pretend that everything was still the same.

“I’m happy you’re here,” Shiro answered, and Keith nodded, refusing to look past the surface and find only his own pathetic delusions swimming in the black water. “The situation here is a lot more sensitive than I actually thought. ATLAS can’t move, not unless we want to start an angry mob calling us 'Neo-Empire’.”

Keith didn’t flinch at the term – he’s been through too much to feel bothered by others calling him out on his ancestry. “Surely, our presence here is a detriment, right? Most of the Blades are Galrans – rebel Galrans during the war, yes, but I doubt the Balmorrans would care to see the difference.”

Shiro nodded. “For the most part, but the B.O.M is a respected name out here. Kolivan’s forces were one of the first to respond to the refugees during the war, back when we were still hunting Zarkon down.”

“Well, I doubt we can do anything better than what your Initiative has here already,” Keith noted, turning to eye the fallen city below. He imagined the refugees hiding in the buildings, watching in terror as Galran battleships clouded the sky before crimson blaster fire turned everything to bloodied ash. All the lives lost, the utter destruction that seemed to seep deep into the earth as if the entire planet itself grieved, refusing to bring back anything alive. It was a miserable sight.

Keith turned back to Shiro. “Unless you are implying we infiltrate the Balmorrans?”

It wouldn’t be a too difficult thing to do – well, not for Keith anyway. Balmorrans looked humanoid enough. Nothing a few prostheses could fix.

Shiro shook his head. “Too risky, and if we get caught, it’ll be the fire to a very ready fuse.”

Keith nodded. “What, then?”

Shiro sat up, leaning on his knees and his left hand opened up in a gesture. “Some of the Blades are expert slicers, with more experience dealing with various alien cultures than anyone in the entire Initiative. We’re thinking of asking your help in tapping communication lines in Sobrik.”

“Any particular reason for this request?” Keith asked, crossing his arms. “Aren’t we here to supply the refugees?”

“Yes,” Shiro nodded – voice taut, “our original purpose here was to supply food and medicine to the survivors, but things escalated past what we expected.”

“What happened, Shiro?”

Shiro leaned back, breathing in deeply. “Remember how I mentioned that our supply transports were being attacked?”

“Yes,” Keith answered – recalling their discussion earlier. “You mentioned that they were knocked out with EMPs and the supplies stolen.”

“It wasn’t all that we found.” Shiro answered, voice going dark as his brows furrowed. Keith sat up straight, tension seeping into his body at the implication. There was no reason for Shiro not to mention this when they had their discussion. The fact that Shiro was starting that now, here—Keith looked about, knowing that anyone else this far up had no business being here.

That meant — Shiro trusted him enough to share with him. Keith bit his lip, unsure of what this meant.

“Only Matt and I know this,” Shiro started, and Keith watched as he pulled out a tablet from inside his jacket. The design was familiar, though it was certainly not something he’d expect to find inside the ATHENA. It lacked all the designs that made it Terran or Altean — and Keith frowned at the grooved characters on the sides. Galran.

It looked worn, and used — damaged, even. There were blast marks on its corners, and it didn’t seem it would hold up any longer. Shiro paused, holding it in his grasp for a bit and Keith saw the hesitation in his eyes.

“Keith, I don’t know what this is supposed to mean.” He said, and Keith didn’t give him a response — wondering why Shiro was being anxious with him now when he had been so open just a while ago.

“It’s not—” Shiro’s voice was even, and on the surface, it might sound formal but Keith knew when Shiro was feigning and that he was trying not to sound as bothered as he really was. “It could be fake, it could be subterfuge…”

“Or it could be true.” Keith concluded, connecting the dots. “That’s what you’re afraid of — that it could be true.”

“A lot of things that I thought impossible had become true.” Shiro answered, and it was heavy with pain and bitterness. Keith blinked — taken aback by the current of anger in the other’s voice. The grey-taupe eyes above the edge of the tablet seemed older, and when they flicked to the scar on the right side of his face — a decade ago, above an abandoned clone facility — Keith felt all the years hit im in the face.

So many things had changed — and it was almost impossible for Keith to believe that he had a life like that, once. When he had commandeered a powerful mechanical Lion, and that he had been swept in eddies of time — defeating space sorceresses obsessed with quintessence.

Keith had been away, far too long, that he finally understood what Matt meant when he was a stranger. He barely knew the Shiro in front of him.

“I’m—” He started, and he didn’t want to examine if it was willingly or not. “I’m different, but I’m still—”

_I’m still trying so hard to be the good guy. I’m still trying to save as many as I could. I’m still trying not to fail, not like the way I failed you._

_I’m still in love with you and I don’t know how to stop._

“I’m still Keith.” He ended lamely. “I’m different now, but I’m still Keith.”

_You can still trust me._

Shiro’s eyes glanced back to his, and Keith saw the age and the hesitation there. Whatever the emotions were, whatever the causes of them — whatever made Shiro frostier, sharper — Keith didn’t know, and even if he did admit that he wanted to, it wasn’t his right, not at all. Keith could only try and show that he’s still on Shiro’s side — even if it had been a decade since he last saw the other, even if Keith was itching every fucking second to vault over the railings and run to his ship and hightail the goddamn hell outta here. Even then — even in the obscureness of space, Keith was still on Shiro’s side.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Shiro muttered, and Keith sat back — lost on how to process whatever that meant.

Shiro extended his hand, and Keith took the tablet from his grasp, holding it securely. Whatever was on it was important enough for Shiro to watch Keith like a hawk, as if Keith would disappear with it in tow.

The screen was powered off — perhaps to reserve the battery. He pressed the button on the center, watching as it came to life.

There was only a line on the screen, and a symbol below — but it was enough for Keith’s hand to tremble, enough for his skin to grow cold and enough for him to reach for his dagger with his free hand. A hundred thoughts were running through his mind — all of them conjecture: subterfuge, truth, coincidence — each trying to justify what was on the screen.

He finally understood Shiro’s hesitation, why he didn’t talk about this in the briefing room where a hundred others could hear. Above the upper edge of the tablet, Shiro was looking at him — trying to find something, maybe a slip or a grain of truth in Keith’s eyes, one that could put to word the now visible fear hanging in the air.

“I—” Keith paused. “This is...impossible. I mean, it’s not possible.”

Shiro didn’t look away. “Fifteen years ago, when I was still a Garrison cadet and you were a new recruit, I would have thought that none of this was possible. Right now, I don’t know what to think except look for knives in the shadows.”

“Let’s—” Keith raised a hand up, letting go of the dagger and taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. “Let’s assume, for one second, that this thing is real, that it isn’t an obviously fabricated attempt to throw suspicion off the perpetrator—what purpose would it serve? Why would they leave obvious evidence of who they were at the scene of their crimes?”

“That’s what I certainly want to know, yes.” Shiro agreed, still looking at Keith sharply — almost as if assessing him. Keith didn’t rise to the bait, even when he felt his hackles bristling. “Keith, this isn’t just simple thievery. Use of EMP weaponry — powerful enough to fry Initiative transport systems solid — is a big concern, especially in a place like Sobrik. This planet was left abandoned after the bombardment for almost a decade — the fact that there was even something to generate an EMP is worrying.”

“I get that,” Keith prodded, looking back down on the tablet. “I get what you’re saying, okay — it’s just, this doesn’t sit well with me. I _know_ that this isn’t true.”

“Remember Lotor, Keith?” Shiro countered, and Keith looked away, eyeing the sunset. Suddenly, it was cold. Keith knew that the sun was still out and that the weather was still too humid for his liking but he couldn’t help the cold crawling up his skin.

“Lotor was different.” His voice was low, growled. He understood what Shiro was trying to say but — no — Keith didn’t want to acknowledge the possibility that this was the same with what happened with the last Galran Emperor. “Lotor had motive, and there’s not motive for this — nothing to link the evidence and what’s been happening together.”

“Perhaps, you’re right.” Shiro finally said after a moment of silence, when the air became too tense — tense enough to cut through with a blade. Keith was still gripping the tablet tightly, the light from the screen painting his glove with blue. Shiro had a hand in his hair, the metal of his right hand’s fingers nestled gently in his silver hair.

He was tired, Keith noted. He was tired and stressed and Keith allowed himself a moment to imagine how it would feel to cross the distance, put a gentle hand on Shiro’s shoulder and press a soft kiss against his cheek. He allowed himself a moment to imagine how it’d feel to have all the worry disappear from Shiro’s eyes, and turn into a smile the moment he looked Keith’s way.

_This tablet isn’t the only impossible thing here._

Keith shook his head, and Shiro glanced at him. When he spoke, his voice was quiet — none of the earlier tension and hesitation. “I do hope you’re right, Keith. I’d pay anything to be wrong.”

“You are.” Keith repeated, even if the words sounded dull. A flash of amusement glittered in the taupe and Keith looked down at the tablet again. “Akosha and Vadir have some training with slicing. More than I ever had, anyway. They’ll find out more about this. We’ll think up a plan, track this to its source and stamp it out. Completely.”

“Arrested,” Shiro injected, frowning. “Arrested and detained and up for trial. As much as possible, I don’t want any bloodshed over this.”

Keith pursed his lips. “It doesn’t always happen that way. Most things always end in a fight.”

He didn’t say that whoever did this just made it personal for Keith. It had been a mission — yes, just a simple mission that Keith wanted to have over, because it put him in close vicinity with someone he didn’t want to see again. He didn’t expect this.

He didn’t have a lot left, and whoever this fucker was just up and decided to shit on what he still had. Keith wasn’t going to stand for this.

He didn’t notice Shiro watching as Keith raised his free hand, unconsciously feeling for the scar around his left eye. He almost lost everything once — and he wasn’t ready to do so again.

“Not all the time, Keith.” Shiro voiced quietly.

Shiro didn’t understand, Keith thought. Shiro was a leader — he was the face everybody looked up to, the man at the heart of ATLAS. He was a shining symbol of what was possible when peace and cooperation existed, when there was no need for war — only for science, pushing human boundary and possibility forward.

Shiro didn’t understand the fringes of the galaxy, the war-torn ravages that persisted for _centuries_ in Zarkon’s millennia-long rule and Haggar’s mindless thrashing. He didn’t see the terrified, beaten faces of the survivors on the planets that have gone so long under fire, surviving long enough just for Keith to arrive and watch them die.

Shiro, everyone else, everyone in Keith’s past — they were happy in their cocoon of peace and warmth, content to venture past their gates with their starships when they felt the time was right. They didn’t have to stand on the earth of planets too battered to ever breathe life again, to hold the cold body of an extinct race’s last scion.

Keith didn’t hate them for it, he could never wish this on them — no matter the pain — but they could _never_ understand what it meant to him, to hold the tablet in his hand and see what was written and know that someone out there took a look at everything he had sacrificed and threw it back in his face.

“I hope you’re right.” Keith repeated Shiro’s own words. _Because if you’re not, I’m doing things my way._

The tablet was cold in his hand, and Keith gave it back to Shiro — ignoring the concerned gaze under the silver hair — and turning to face the coming dusk. The stars were about to shine clearly, growing visible on the horizon. Below, the city grew more distinct — no longer block shadows cast in the sunlight. He could see small fires and lights in the refugee camps, in the somewhat stable buildings that haven’t collapsed since the bombardment. This far, the Balmorrans looked like ants.

In those camps, in the mass of bodies and figures moving about, was Keith’s target — hiding, probably looking up at him this very moment. He couldn’t stop thinking about the tablet — the words written on them in Galran.

_A new order of the ages._

Underneath it, glowing starkly even in Keith’s mind, was the symbol of the Blade of Marmora.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short-ish chapter again! Not a lot of action for this one, we're still getting there. A lot of exposition and a lot of planning (you know what happens when the author discussed the plans lol)
> 
> I received a lot of good feedback for the first chapter, so thank you very much! I'm hoping to update this daily - but that would be very dependent on whether work and real life is going to kick my ass or not. At best, I hope to update twice a week! Of course, you have my permission to badger me ; A;

Dawn hasn’t come up yet—not in a while, anyway. Shiro’s noted that here, in Balmorra, with how fast the planet spun on its axis, sunrise always came at the same time. It was still **0400** hours, a bit too early for him to be awake and pacing the length of his room.

The apartment seemed quiet, and he couldn’t hear Keith moving about so he must probably be asleep. Shiro ran a hand down his face, glaring tiredly at the small line of glass that served as a window — reminding him of a very sophisticated prison.

Seeing Keith again was a shock.

No, shock was an understatement — a massive one, if Shiro were to be honest with himself. When he had reached out to Kolivan for assistance with this mission, the Blades’ leader had failed to mention that he was sending someone Shiro thought he would never see again. Keith had vanished almost ten years ago, right after they defeated Haggar and christened New Altea, right after his wedding to Curtis.

His left hand formed a fist, before Shiro allowed himself to relax.

There was an onslaught of emotion when the Blades had arrived yesterday — in their crimson and black armor, Shiro actually thought that whatever the recovered tablet had said was right. Matt didn’t even tell him that Keith was their representative, but guessing on the look of surprise on the older Holt’s face, he didn’t expect it either.

Truth be told, none of them had heard from Keith in a really long while. Shiro knew that Lance made numerous attempts at contacting their former Red Paladin ever since New Altea, and he remembered all the unanswered transmissions leaving them hanging. Recovering after the war was difficult, Shiro had found, especially when he was the leader of an Initiative meant to sweep over the bloody past and start over.

Shiro wasn’t going to lie — he’s also had less and less interactions with the other Paladins, but Keith was different. Keith went radio silent, and though Shiro had been too busy and unable to visit more often, at the very least, Shiro was able to attend birthdays.

_Detecting elevated heart rate and stress patterns. Is everything alright, Admiral?_

Shiro shook his head, smiling a bit to himself at the A.I’s mechanical tone. “I’m alright, ATLAS. How’s the ATHENA?”

Shiro sat back on his bed, pulling a foot up as he leaned against the steel headboard. ATLAS was silent for a moment, a usual quirk when it was pulling up data for Shiro. The A.I had been one of the Holts’ major R&D breakthrough after the war — invoking Altean technology into Terran, producing a sentient system that could function as a mechanical core.

_Energy levels are stable. All ports and access points are secure. Particle and weaponry are currently disengaged._

“Good.” Shiro answered, even though ATLAS didn’t require one. He couldn’t help it — years with ATLAS made it seem almost like a person that Shiro was talking to. “Are the Blades in their quarters?”

_Affirmative, sir. Biometric scanning determines they are currently at rest._

“Were they able to notice you?” Shiro asked, grabbing a tablet from the side-table and pulling up the reports from Matt and Ceyk.

There were new supply transports coming in from Kerberos — now serving as a point of access to Earth’s solar system — and would be arriving out of lightspeed in a day. Hopefully, Keith’s slicers would be able to find out more on these attacks. It wouldn’t do to keep requisitioning supplies, only for them to be sabotaged and stolen once they hit Balmorran space — not to mention the existence of the tablet and the symbol of the Blade of Marmora.

_Negative, sir. We detected no fluctuation in heart rate, breathing and recognition patterns when we did the biometric scan._

“That’s good,” Shiro muttered quietly, pulling up Ceyk’s report. It was simpler than Matt’s — a quick update on the refugee count in Sobrik City, the dwindling food and medicines at their treatment centers and a question on the Blades’ presence on the planet. Frustration coursed through his veins at the last one, and Shiro let the tablet fall on the bed.

Ceyk was a good man—or he appeared so to Shiro. He was rigid, that’s for sure, and he was not afraid to go up against Shiro’s opinion when it came to protecting his people. Shiro understood the cause for concern, and the Balmorrans’ dislike of the Galrans because of the orbital bombardment — but Shiro doubted Ceyk was the one behind the attacks. While there was motive for the Balmorrans to wring the supplies out, it would heavily defeat the point of sending them the supplies in the first place.

No, whoever stole the supplies weren’t doing it for the Balmorrans — they had their own agenda, and they left a mark that had Shiro suspecting something far deeper past the surface. “ATLAS, initiate protocol forty-eight.”

_Initiating protocol forty-eight. Securing mainframe and communications channel. Once activated, only Admiral Shirogane, Takashi, Lieutenant-Commander Holt, Matthew and Commodore Kogane, Keith may issue commands to the ATLAS system._

“Revoke last order—” Shiro cleared his throat, silent for a moment. “No, continue the protocol, but inform me if Keith will ever issue commands to you.”

_Affirmative, sir. Updating protocol queue. All orders from Commodore Kogane, Keith will be subject to review by Admiral Shirogane, Takashi. Requesting Level-5 confirmation._

Despite the pit in his stomach, Shiro nodded. A light-blue line swept over his body, from crown to toe, before ATLAS’ mechanical voice spoke quietly into the room. _Confirmed. All protocols are activated._

After that, ATLAS was quiet — returning to its mainframe core and overseeing the rest of the ATHENA for Shiro. Its creation was certainly a big help for him — it would have been nigh impossible for one man to keep an eye on a ship this big, with numerous personnel up to the hundreds. The ATHENA was more than just a transport ship bringing supplies to war-torn planets. No, it was the flagship of the ATLAS Initiative, a beacon to the galaxy that peace had come.

Still, the silence didn’t really help — now that Shiro had time to think things over with the last protocol.

It wasn’t that he did not trust Keith — he did, even now, even after a decade of silence. Keith was different, that Shiro was sure of. The Keith he knew was always spunky, ready to do whatever needed to be done to protect the people he cared about. Shiro knew that firsthand, can still remember the sizzle of skin as his blade almost came close to ending Keith’s life.

His hand tightened into a fist. It was in the past, Shiro knew, and it had been a circumstance beyond his control but it didn’t mitigate the flood guilt still there, still present in his veins. He had come close to killing someone he cared for.

Things are different now, though. It wasn’t like they could turn back time and return to that moment and fix everything that had gone wrong. All of it – the Lions, Allura, Lotor, Zarkon – they were parts of the past that could never be returned. Haggar’s machinations of quintessence and reality had proven to them how dangerous it was to meddle in things beyond their control.

Still – it didn’t mean that moving forward was easy. In war, there was a goal: to survive. When things went sour, it was always good to keep that in mind: that, above all else, survival was the top priority. Blaster fire could run overhead, and enemy fighters could come speeding past on their wails, but keep your head down and keep your weapon to your chest and hold on. The only thing important was making sure it was not your body cold on the ground.

Peace always felt like a jump off a cliff – the recovery, the rehabilitation, all of it. It was a different kind of pressure, but the sudden quiet after the guns have grown cold was always disconcerting to Shiro. It’s funny – funny like terrible, really – that he’s gone so used to conflict and battle that, even now, knowing that the ATLAS Initiative had secured most of the former Imperial space, it was still a strange concept to him.

Waking up, and knowing that he didn’t have to pilot his Lion or take control of ATLAS-001 to fend off a fleet of Galran interceptors – the thought was enough to give Shiro pause.

That isn’t to say he would wish war on anyone ever again – it was just something he still had trouble getting used to.

“ATLAS, please see if Pidge is at her station.”

Shiro stood from his bed as the A.I. hummed, grabbing the shirt from the chair by his dresser. Slipping it on, he adjusted the hem of the right side, by the shoulder until it fit under the repulsor base. He didn’t feel like activating his right arm for the moment – even though he’s gotten used to the magnetic vibration from it and his shoulder, it always left him feeling slightly exhausted.

_Dr. Holt is currently active, sir. Would you like us to patch you through?_

“Yes, and tell her it’s a secure channel.” There was a flash of blue, and a screen formed by the bare wall to Shiro’s left. He’s not quite familiar with how the concept of electromagnetic sensors could do this now, but he’s sure it was something Pidge would spend hours upon hours discussing – and Matt’s constant injections in the topic would not help at all.

The lines interwoven to form a screen flashed, before Shiro saw the side of Pidge’s hair. “Just a sec!”

“Take your time.” Shiro grinned, always happy to see the face of a close friend. It must have been day time at Olkarion, if the crimson-yellow sky in the background was any indication. Pidge still had her back turned to him, a very large green labcoat covering most of her chair. There were a few of the Olkari he could see past the glass walls of Pidge’s office – though he was sure that Pidge knew the people around her, Shiro didn’t want to take chances.

The chair swiveled, and Pidge’s face crowded over most of the screen. Her glasses flashed, preventing Shiro from seeing her eyes. “Okay, I’m done with that and now with this. What’s up, Admiral?”

Shiro sighed, shaking his head though the smile remained on his face. Pidge would never stop calling him Admiral – just to nettle him. “A few things, though I would hope you’re not lagging on the work over there.”

“Hmm, must be if you put up security on this frequency.” Pidge noted, and Shiro could hear a few beeps from her keyboard. “Also, I finish my work on time. Unlike Matt, who always gets distracted by N-7.”

“Don’t let him hear that.” Shiro agreed, chuckling. Pidge hummed to herself, leaning back and allowing Shiro to see her eyes – squinting.

“Okay, why are you awake at four in the morning and calling me?” Pidge cut through the chase. Shiro raised a brow.

“Is there a problem with that?”

“Secure frequency? That says a lot, Shiro.” He nodded, acquiescing to her point. Not a lot gets past Pidge – even through a communication console from parsecs away. “Plus you’re in Balmorra, which the Coalition has classified red on their star charts. The war’s over but the place is still unstable, you know.”

“We’re trying to make it stable,” Shiro pressed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And a lot of things are getting in our way.”

He heard Pidge make a sympathetic sound, and Shiro let his hand fall, pursing his lips as he took in her next few words. “We can’t always come in, guns blazing. There’s no need for that, now. This is definitely a different challenge, though, so I’m not really envious of your position right now.”

Shiro gave her a tired smile. “Of course not. You couldn’t be happier with where you are now.”

“You fucking got that right.”

A sigh escaped his lips before he could stop it, and Pidge turned back to him. “Okay, talk to me now. This isn’t just a house call, you and I both know that. What’s going on?”

“I need—“Shiro paused, knowing what he was about to share was vital information. He trusted himself and he trusted Matt, and he knew he could trust Pidge – would even trust her with his life on the line. There was a reason why all the Paladins, even Keith, had access to his quarters and the ATHENA’s control deck. All the years of fighting and sacrifice had made them integral to who Shiro was – his fear now was that, by sharing this to Pidge, it was widening the target painted on his back.

If it was just him, it would have been fine – but he’d never forgive himself if anything happened to the rest.

Still, he’s not going to get on far with what he had. He trusted Keith, and he trusted that the other knew his people well – but Shiro didn’t last this long as Admiral of the Fleet by being complacent. It wasn’t just his security in the air – he and ATLAS was all that was standing in the way between any possible threat and billions of people on countless worlds.

“I need your help on dismantling a tablet and tracking its source.” Shiro finally said, making a mental note to ask Matt to transmit the data to Pidge. Shiro could do it himself, but Matt was more stringent on whatever information he had managed to get from the tablet – he and Pidge could work it over.

“That won’t be a problem,” Pidge started, and Shiro knew she wasn’t letting this go easily, “though it does make me curious why you’re sending it to me, here in Olkarion, when you obviously have a tech team at your beck and call there.”

Shiro knew that ATLAS kept his room, and his entire apartment, protected from outside interference. It wasn’t _impossible_ to bug his quarters but it would be very difficult, and Shiro would be alerted immediately if an attempt was made. Still, it didn’t lessen the need to keep his voice low.

“It’s very sensitive, Pidge. We found it in one of our transports that was hijacked, and our supplies stolen. Whoever these guys are, they want us to know that it’s them doing this.”

“It’s not robbery, then.” Pidge nodded to herself, and Shiro watched as she pressed a panel on one of her screens and the glass walls of her office grew obscure, preventing anyone from looking in. “They’re leaving a statement.”

“Only people who leave statements at the scene of the crime are murderers and terrorists.” Shiro remarked, easing the grip of his left hand.

“And to come from Balmorra, of all places.” Pidge’s voice was quiet, murmured, as if distracted by something. He saw her taking a few notes on her tablet. “I’ll make sure Matt gets it to me as soon as possible, though before I can crack it open, I’d advise against you sharing this with anyone else.”

“That’s the plan.” Shiro concluded, throwing a hand up. Pidge pressed the tip of her pen against her chin, looking at him – though her eyes were unfocused. “This isn’t everything, is it? There’s more?”

Shiro could pretend to not know anything of what she was talking about, but that was pointless. Pidge always knew. Breathing out heavily, he tried to keep his voice even and casual. He knew he failed, either way. “Keith is here.”

Pidge’s eyes widened. “Holy shit.”

 _I know._ Shiro nodded. “I requested assistance from Kolivan for this mission. I had agreed to lead the Initiative here as a show of goodwill, and to let the Balmorrans know that my being here meant we were serious in helping them. Still, I had guessed that they wouldn’t take kindly to us so I requested help from someone the Balmorrans were familiar with.”

Pidge slowly followed, eyes still wide. “Yeah, the B.O.M have been helping planets all throughout Zarkon’s reign. Still, Shiro…Keith? Fuck. Ten years, and he actually showed up?”

“Tell me about it.” Shiro admitted. “I didn’t expect it to be him, and neither did Matt. Kolivan didn’t even say anything – and you know how much we’ve tried to make him tell us where Keith’s been in the last few years.”

“Yeah,” Pidge cleared her throat, confusion and a bit of anger battling across her eyes. “Okay, look, this is new information to me right now so I’m not really sure how to feel. I want to be happy knowing that he’s obviously okay, but I also wanna fuck him up for vanishing on us.”

Shiro had to agree with her – he felt the same, though a part of him didn’t understand why seeing Keith again felt like the ATHENA itself crashed on top of him. He had been happy to see the face of his oldest and closest friend, and yet anger also found itself in him, wanting to walk down the stairs and shake the asshole up for the ten long years of zero communication.

“So,” Pidge continued, awkwardly. “How is he?”

He shrugged, raising a hand in defeat. “He’s good, I guess?”

“You guess?”

“He’s different, Pidge.” Shiro admitted, and he’s not sure why he sounded so bitter about it. Of course he knew, he just didn’t want to accept it. Ten years changed people, and the Keith he knew then wasn’t there in the person wearing his face, draped in terrifying black and red Blade armor. Shiro knew, with his gut and with his heart, that Keith was still the good person he remembered – but their talk up the communication array and just the fact that Shiro couldn’t even _read_ Keith anymore— “I look at him and I see my best friend, but then he talks and I realize I have no idea who the hell this person is.”

“People change, Shiro.” Pidge mumbled quietly. “You changed.”

“I know,” Shiro admitted – he knew what Pidge meant, and he knew that she wasn’t just talking about the physical. The empty left side of his bed and the absence of a ring on his left hand said everything and nothing at the same time. “I know, and that’s why it frustrated me because I know that people change, and that the Keith I knew then and now are still the same person but it’s just – you should have seen him, Pidge. It’s like he doesn’t even recognize me.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” She finally answered, after a long bout of silence that almost grew uncomfortable. Her words were cryptic, as if she knew something he didn’t. “I don’t think Keith would ever do that, not on purpose at least.”

Shiro squinted his gaze at her, and she shrugged. “It’s nothing. Just – tell him? Tell him that we miss him?”

He nodded, her request was something he would never deny her. Pidge didn’t stop there, though. “I know that you missed him, too. I know that you spent so long looking for him after New Altea.”

Shiro sat on his bed, turning to face the window. Before he could even stop himself, his voice cracked. “He didn’t even say goodbye.”

“Maybe now’s the time to get all that open.” Pidge encouraged, and he turned to give her a smile. Beyond the window, dawn was creeping up – gold lighting the horizon. “Maybe now, you can tell him that and hear his side. Talk to him, Shiro.”

“How is it—“Shiro turned, grinning at her, “that I’m older than you but you’re the one giving me advice?”

Pidge’s grin was infectious. “Because I’m smarter than you, duh.”

“Thanks, Pidge.” Shiro meant that, he really did. Talking to her always made him feel better. “I’ll have Matt send it as soon as possible. Take care, alright?”

“You too. Get some sleep, looks like you’ll need it.”

Shiro chuckled again, shutting the communications channel. The electronic clock by the side of his bed was flashing at **0542** – there was no time to go to bed, anymore. He needed to be at the control tower at eight hundred hours, and he’ll need to talk to Matt and Keith with a plan for the tablet.

Shaking his head, he grabbed a towel from his dresser. It was going to be a long day, might as well get started.

 

* * *

 

Shiro was at the kitchenette, a cup of coffee halfway to his lips as he pondered over a few reports when the door to Keith’s room opened. He looked up, wondering for a while now as he heard voices from his room a moment ago.

The Blade – because, honestly, Shiro couldn’t describe him as anything else anymore; he wasn’t the Red Paladin he knew, or the cadet Shiro had vouched for so long ago, it almost seemed like a life time – was dressed in the same armor he had on the day before. It was disturbing to see that none of the purple colors of the armor remained – replaced with black and red.

Keith’s hood was up – something that irked Shiro, for a reason he didn’t really want to dissect. It just felt like Keith was putting a barrier between them, intentionally keeping him out.

Remembering Pidge’s words, Shiro let go of his irritation, settling his mug on the countertop. “There’s coffee in the flask, if you need some.”

“Thanks.” Keith answered, voice even but Shiro could hear the faint ebb of sleep in it. _So, you’re not entirely a robot._

Then, realizing what he had thought, Shiro felt a bit of guilt at the harshness hit him.

He settled with watching Keith above the rim of his mug, spying a gloved hand reach for the flask and an unused steel mug in one of the panels. His hair’s grown longer, Shiro’s noticed – the braid was over Keith’s shoulder, running past the edge of the hood and almost to his lower torso. He tried to imagine how Keith would look with it loose, released from its braid, matching the glittering mauve eyes – and he almost choked at the pleasant image.

Keith turned to him at the sound, and Shiro could feel the curiosity coming off him. He gestured to the mug. “Burned my tongue.”

The other nodded, before turning back to the flask but Shiro swore there was a small smile on those lips.

He didn’t know why that eased the weight on his chest – that he somehow made Keith smile.

Cup in hand, Keith turned back to him and settled on the counter, parallel from him. It’s the closest Shiro has been to Keith – closer than the afternoon they spent at the communications array, closer than he’s ever been in the last ten years. This close, he can see the intricate detailing on the edge of the hood – it wasn’t just mindless crisscrossing lines. There was a pattern to them, similar to the lining of the Blade armor’s shoulder pads.

This close, Shiro could also see the neatness of the braid, the gleam of dark hair and a purple sheen in the artificial light. He raised his eyes, and he caught sight of a strong jaw, and the edge of a scar.

“Does it still hurt?” He asked, out of the blue. Once the words were out, he immediately wanted to snatch them back in because they were too – too honest of what he had been feeling, too open of what had been circulating his mind.

Keith tensed at the question, before he turned to him and he raised a hand, touching the edge of the scar Shiro had given him.

It was quiet between them, save the humming of the ATHENA’s energy cells, before Keith shook his head. “No, not at all. I sometimes forget it’s even there.”

The edge of his lips quirked up, and he didn’t sound like he was lying. Still, Shiro found himself speaking out thoughts he had been holding in for years.

“I’m sorry.” Keith turned back to him, surprise obvious despite the hood. Shiro tried to search for those familiar purple-mauve eyes that he could recognize, even in his sleep, hidden under the fringe. “I never apologized for that, and I should have. For what it’s worth, if I could have, I would have stopped.”

Keith didn’t answer, but his lips moved and he seemed he was about to say something but stopped. Shiro didn’t know what to feel, and what to do with the disappointment in his stomach, rolling around like a weight that refused to let up.

Trying to find something to distract himself from it, Shiro placed the mug down and set the tablet aside. “I talked to Ceyk, and he seemed amenable for us to visit the refugee camps in Sobrik this afternoon.”

“That wasn’t an option?” Keith asked, voice low. Shiro shook his head.

“Not unless we want civilians pressing on us to get out. The Balmorrans are very cautious of our presence here, and anything we do – we have to get past through Ceyk first. He’s their representative, and he’s our biggest chance on relaying our good will to Balmorrans.”

Keith nodded, following along. “Is he also their leader?”

“No, not really.” Shiro said, turning to put his mug in the sink. “Ceyk did mention they had a leader, but she refused to appear personally for us. Ceyk agreed with the notion – the Balmorrans believed we would attempt to assassinate her.”

“We don’t know who she is?” Keith prodded. Shiro pursed his lips.

“No. Ceyk refused to give up her identity.”

“Smart.” There was the sound of understanding in Keith’s voice. “Since we don’t know who she is, she could be anyone among the Balmorrans. Ceyk is our only direct link to them, and there’s also the possibility that it’s a ruse and he is, in fact, their leader.”

Shiro agreed, crossing his arms. The repulsor hummed as he activated it, flexing the metal arm. It wasn’t entirely unfeeling, but his sense of touch from the right arm did seem as if it was feeling through several layers of gloves. “This also means that information we get from them are through him alone. It’s not just refugee counts, but also the entire city lay-out and everything else with it.”

Keith hummed. “Including communication lines.”

“Yes,” Shiro pulled a seat up, facing Keith. The other looked up, and Shiro stilled – finally catching sight of the eyes he’s been longing to see. He can’t help but pause, seeing the glitter in them. He had almost forgotten how captivating they could be – ensnaring him the first time he saw Keith, all those years ago. “He’s our only door to the Balmorrans.”

He cleared his throat after that, Keith’s gaze unflinching on him.

“Do we have a reason to suspect him?”

“Not really, not until we find more information regarding the tablet and supply transports being hijacked.” Shiro grunted, resting his chin on a hand. “Ceyk was one of the volunteers we got from the Balmorrans. His file states that he’s their security chief, managing to round up a sizable police force after the bombardment. They were the first to make contact with us after the war, when the Coalition started reaching out to the rest of the galaxy.”

“If the supplies stolen were weaponry, that would have been a cause for alarm.” Keith pointed out. “The key element here is to identify how our transports are continually overtaken. You mentioned they’re armed, autonomously, right?”

Shiro nodded. “Yes, each transport has a targeting system and two stun cannons. As much as possible, they’re meant to incapacitate.”

“Are we expecting supplies soon?” Keith asked, and Shiro wondered at the glint in his eyes. Frowning, Shiro pulled the tablet close and opened his email.

“Tomorrow, **2100** hours.” He nodded, and Keith took the mug and drained it in one go. Shiro watched the line of his throat, and the bob as he swallowed before looking away, feeling uncomfortably hot in his uniform.

“I might have a plan.” Keith said. “But I don’t wanna try that one out unless we can’t tap Sobrik’s comms lines.”

“Brief me on that later?” Shiro requested, grabbing the mug and dumping it next to his on the sink. He’ll take care of it later, pulling the black overcoat from the back of the seat while Keith stood. Pushing his arm through the end, Shiro paused as the angle made it awkward for him to pull the right side on – even with the help of his right arm. It was tricky, sometimes.

Keith was by his side, suddenly, and Shiro stilled – unsure of what to do as Keith took hold of the lapel and adjusted it properly, allowing the repulsor base to slip through. He stood straight, and watched as the other smoothed the lapels on his front.

Shiro could only see the crown of the hood, and he couldn’t help himself as his left hand reached out to hold the edge of it gently. Keith’s hands, gloved, were still on the lapels over his chest – and Shiro could feel their warmth even through the layers of clothes in between.

The air was charged, and so many questions lingered around the bubble and Shiro could almost taste them on his tongue. Keith hadn’t moved, and he could feel the indecision bubbling up from the other – a welcome reprieve from the walls Keith’s been hiding himself behind with.

Slowly, Shiro thumbed the line of the hood, itching it back – allowing the light to seep in and he could see the edge of the scar, redder than the one on the right. This was different, and Shiro had never seen this, never before.

He didn’t pull the hood all the way back, not when he could see the alarm in Keith’s eyes as the other looked up – but Shiro could see that it wasn’t just underneath the left eye. It spread outward, around it and if he could trust to remember how Keith looked without the hood for the second he had been yesterday, then it ran past the temple and down the side of his cheek. It was large, and if Shiro were to be honest with himself – it wasn’t a superficial wound.

He didn’t know if he could find the words, or if his throat was stable enough to voice them out. Miraculously, he could. “What happened?”

His voice had gone low, husky – if he made it stronger, louder, he’d find that he couldn’t.

Keith swallowed, and it was audible enough even for Shiro and – he was stepping back, away, and pulling the hood further down.

“A mission gone wrong.” Keith mumbled, before turning away. “We should get to the briefing room.”

Fear – whatever trace of it – mingled with the disappointment and anger tumbling in Shiro’s belly. A part of him wanted to grab Keith by the shoulders, shake some sense into him – trying to find a cause for all this avoidance. He knew Keith had always been more on the quiet side, internalizing his problems until it turned into a bomb ready to implode from the inside out but this—

This was different. Keith was wearing too many masks, and he looked at Shiro and it made him feel as if he was talking to someone he had known for so long and a total stranger at the same time.

The fear, on seeing the scar, was enough to stagger him – because it didn’t look superficial at all. It looked _lethal,_ a remnant of a wound that was enough to kill someone. To know Keith had one and Shiro hadn’t known – it turned the blood in his veins into something bitter and angry, and Shiro couldn’t think of it and not want to rip into Kolivan and Krolia for hiding something like this from him.

But – and the ugly truth here – he wasn’t sure if he had the right to ask that of them. Maybe – once upon a time – he would have, being Keith’s best friend, his oldest friend.

The man standing in his apartment, with his back to Shiro, barely resembled the one he had stood, side by side, on that cliff edge, watching the sunset.

“I shouldn’t have done that.” Shiro said, and even if it left an ugly, rotting taste in his mouth, he powered on. “I’m sorry.”

Keith didn’t turn back to him, but the hood shifted to the side as if Keith was lending an ear out. Slowly, a nod. Shiro, breathing easier now, gave him a smile even if Keith could not see.

Walking forward, and past Keith, he was about to reach the door when he felt a touch on his left bicep – light, almost seeming like a trick of the mind. Shiro turned to find Keith with his right hand raised.

“Why—“ Keith’s voice sounded awkward, before he cleared it. Slightly more even, he continued. “Why aren’t you wearing your wedding ring?”

Shiro wanted to rear back and bite, wanted to throw the same keep-away strategy that Keith’s been using all this time. It was petty, and childish and some part of him wanted to feel some flimsy satisfaction at the vindication but he kept it in – feeling almost ashamed for the direction of his thoughts.

Pidge had a point – things have changed, and he wasn’t the same Shiro that Keith used to know. Keith wasn’t the only enigma here, now. It might be easier – or not – but it definitely would make things a lot less worrisome and tense if they didn’t have to act around like the other was about to pull a knife or a gun.

Shiro turned to him, and he felt the smile on his face grow cold. He couldn’t help it, throwing his left hand up. “Can’t wear a wedding ring when you’re not married to someone anymore.”

Keith didn’t answer – he stood there, wrapped in his armor, and Shiro couldn’t see his eyes but he could feel the gaze hot and sharp on him. Shiro turned away, hating how vulnerable he felt under Keith’s gaze – no, just _this_ Keith’s gaze.

“It was just—“ Shiro ran a hand down his face, before pressing it to the scanner. The door slid open, silently. “It was just Adam, all over again.”

That was all that he could say. If Shiro stayed, and he said more – it’d be too bare. He would be too bare. He couldn’t do it – he couldn’t let Keith see him so vulnerable, not when Keith felt like a stranger trespassing on territories too close to Shiro’s heart.

The door slid shut behind him, and Shiro walked towards the lift, breathing deep and trying to calm himself. He can’t keep making things awkward – not when there was a mission at hand, and an important one at that.

It was just so difficult to pretend that he wasn’t bothered by Keith appearing back in his life. Pidge knew that, and he knew that she wanted him to hear Keith’s side and hope that it will help bridge the distance that had grown between all of them and Keith.

It was just so goddamn hard not to turn around and ask. _Why? Why did you leave without saying goodbye? Did we mean anything to you at all? Did_ **_I_ ** _mean anything to you?_

The door slid open and he heard Keith’s boots on the ground and Shiro shut his eyes, focusing on his breathing. Calmer now, he stood and felt Keith stand by his side, waiting for the lift as well.

They were heading in the same destination, and Shiro just wanted to finish this mission as soon as possible. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to even know more from Keith.

Keith, standing next to him, just a few centimeters – it was the closest he’s been in the last ten years and Shiro can’t help but feel cold and lonely.

The lifts opened, and Shiro allowed Keith to enter first. He refused to look his way, and followed after. The elevator wasn’t terribly small, but it did mean they were standing next to each other with the same distance. Shiro leaned past Keith, pressing his hand to the scanner and directing the elevator to the control room’s floor.

It was quiet between them – and Shiro was fine with that. He’s had ten years to get used to the radio silence from Keith’s end. A few days more wouldn’t kill him, and Keith could go back to whatever he’s been doing. Shiro can’t even begin to guess what, and the thought is bitter, like everything else that linked him and Keith now.

“I’m sorry.” Keith’s words were unexpected and Shiro almost jumped, shocked at the contrition in his voice. It’s sad, isn’t it? To be so surprised to hear that from someone you had once thought the world of – someone you had considered to be a best friend?

 _Save it._ A part of him wanted to say, no matter how untrue it was – just to hold on to a ledge of anger, anything to stop the onslaught of _hurt_ following the words. Shiro bit his lip, looking at his reflection on the clear glass.

“I know it doesn’t mean much, coming from me,” Keith continued – tinny words, spoken too quietly, almost like he was ashamed of himself for sounding like that, “but I really am sorry.”

“Fourteen.” Shiro’s voice cracked, but he couldn’t just stop himself. “Fourteen hundred times I sent transmissions. All of them, unacknowledged. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve asked Kolivan, and I can’t even begin to count all the times I’ve been denied. All the times I’ve been told ‘he doesn’t want to be contacted, Shiro’.”

Shiro shook his head, and he chuckled. It was wobbly, loose and his vision blurred for a moment. Fuck, now was not the time. Now was not the time to show Keith just how hurt he was.

But his body didn’t obey.

“When Curtis divorced me, I—“Shiro cleared his throat. “I needed someone. I needed someone to talk to, someone who knew me – really. Who knew that I couldn’t just turn my back on a galaxy that needed me, that I could never put my own happiness above the safety of so many people still hurting from the war. I needed someone, Keith, to tell me that I was doing the right thing, that even if it killed me that Curtis didn’t want me anymore – that I was still doing the right thing, taking this command to serve a greater good.”

The elevator dinged, and Shiro slammed his hand on the panel, keeping the doors closed. Keith didn’t even jump.

“I needed someone, and you weren’t there, Keith.” Shiro finally admitted, and his breathing was taut and his words trembled even when he tried so hard to keep the tears in his eyes and his chin from trembling too much. “I didn’t even know where you were. One day, you were just there and the next – you’re gone. Like a fucking ghost.”

Keith didn’t say anything, kept his ground and Shiro fucking wanted to rip that hood away from him so he could see – see if Keith was as unfeeling as he seemed to be, if Shiro’s pain didn’t matter to him at all.

Shiro didn’t want it to happen like this – he wanted this out, yes, but not like this. Not this explosive, this vindictive. He wanted this out in a way that didn’t damage him, that damaged Keith and made things all the more bitter but he couldn’t _stop_ —

Everything he’s been keeping to himself, everything he had been piling under lock and key – all came bursting out, and Shiro couldn’t be damned to find in him the fuck to care about the elevator dinging, or ATLAS in his earpiece confirming his position.

It all just came out.

“I needed you, Keith, and you weren’t there and it fucking hurts.”

Keith’s lips parted, but no words came out and he closed them. Shiro just – he just doesn’t know how to deal with the disappointment after that. He had let everything out – the resentment, and the pain and just the times he’s spent punching in coordinate after coordinate, hoping that the next one would lead to a voice he had known longest and finding only silence on the other end. Keith didn’t even say anything – like Shiro’s pain didn’t matter to him.

The realization drained the fight in him, and he just blinked tiredly. He didn’t feel good at all – he just felt really hollow.

Removing his hand from the scanner and letting the elevator resume course, Shiro wiped his eyes and breathed through his mouth.

“I can’t accept your apology.” Shiro spoke, voice brittle. Keith didn’t react, and Shiro couldn’t find it in him to care anymore. “You shouldn’t have come back.”

Nothing but silence after that, and Shiro should start getting used to that, too. Maybe Pidge was wrong, and he’ll never be able to get through to Keith now. He didn’t know the person beside him anymore.

Just before the doors opened, Keith finally spoke.

“Maybe.” A word. It was tremulous, and he could hear Keith trying to keep it even. Shiro didn’t feel anything. “But I’m here now, and I will finish this mission. Once that’s done, I won’t be a problem anymore.”

What else could be said after that? What else could Shiro find to counter that? Did it matter that Shiro felt none of the comfort he wanted to feel on hearing that? He didn’t. He didn’t feel vindication, or ease at finally letting all the angry air out.

He just felt really tired.

The noise of the briefing room bombarded the tense silence of the lift, and Shiro cleared his face of any emotion. Now, he wasn’t just someone with a broken heart. He was a soldier, and an Admiral. His men needed to see that.

He didn’t respond to Keith, and he didn’t turn to see if the other was following him. He didn’t care – not now. He had said his piece, had showed Keith a glimpse of the pain he felt and he got nothing in return.

It was fucking unfair, but life was always unfair.

He just wanted this mission done, and Keith can disappear back to wherever he was and Shiro will believe that the man he once knew so well was gone.

 

* * *

 

“Is everything okay?” Matt asked, later. Shiro kept his eyes on the report in his hand, but he knew Matt saw through that. He and Pidge were far too alike in that department, and Shiro seemed to be their favorite target.

“What are you talking about?” He diverted, and he heard a mumble of frustration from Matt’s end as he encoded the data from the tablet. Shiro was lounging on the chair by Matt’s desk, facing the reinforced glass. The view of Sobrik was miserable, if he were to be honest with himself – steel walls turned to crisps, smoking ruins and debris.

“You honestly think I don’t see through you?” Matt grumbled, and Shiro set the tablet down, readying himself for his usual taste of Holt psychotherapy. “I’ve never seen you glare at Keith like that, and you were doing it throughout the entire briefing. I was almost ready to believe you were going to shut his opinions down.”

“I’m not like that, Matt.” Shiro countered, keeping his voice even. “Whatever mess is in my personal life will never be brought over when my work is involved.”

The older Holt looked up from his screen, hazel eyes given a blue sheen. “Glad to hear that because, no matter what I think of Keith, his plan did have merit.”

Shiro nodded, agreeing. It didn’t matter that catching sight of Keith felt like a stab to his chest, or hearing that voice after years of silence made Shiro want to grab something and keep himself up – none of that mattered beyond the confines of Shiro’s room, of Takashi Shirogane. When the Admiral title came on, things like that were no longer top priority.

Keith had shared the information with his team during the briefing, including the symbol of the Blade of Marmora on the tablet. The two other Blades – Akosha and Vadir – had reacted the same way as Keith’s, anger and disbelief flittering in their purple eyes. Shiro had kept an eye on them throughout the meeting.

From what Keith had told him – solely because he had yet to receive the information he wanted from Kolivan on these two – Akosha and Vadir were recent recruits. Akosha had been with the Blades for roughly three Terran years, having broken into a B.O.M ship without tripping and impressing Kolivan enough to recruit her.

Vadir was different – he was a marksman, a former Imperial soldier. Keith vouched for him, but Shiro kept his reservations to himself. Until he received the information he requested from Kolivan, he’d keep the other Blades on arm’s length. It didn’t help that, in the middle of the meeting, Vadir met his gaze – and that itself told Shiro that the other had noticed his consternation.

“If the Blade slicers are as good as Kolivan made us believe, we’ll hopefully even this out sooner than expected.” Shiro noted, turning back to his tablet and frowning. “ATLAS, where are the Blades?”

On that, the mechanical hum around them grew distinct for a moment before the A.I.’s voice crackled around them.

_We have located them at Cybernetics, Admiral. They are currently dismantling the duplicate copy of the tablet Lieutenant-Commander Matthew Holt presented to them._

“Are they alone?”

_Negative, sir. They are accompanied by Chief Technician Atton Rand and assistant technician Ordo._

“How about security?”

_All visual sensors are operational on this floor. We also placed eight security officers outside Cybernetics._

“Good. Keep an eye on the Blades, ATLAS. Let me know if anything suspicious happens.”

Shiro turned to Matt after the A.I. confirmed, facing the man. There was a look of curiosity on his face. “Problem?”

“Hopefully, it’s nothing.” Shiro answered. “I just want our bases covered.”

Matt shrugged. “Well, with Ordo helping them out – he’d be more of a problem than the Blades will be.”

He frowned, swiveling in his chair to face Matt. “How so?”

The other didn’t look up, continuing to type on his screen. “Hmm? Oh, Ordo’s one of our newer technicians. Clumsy guy, I’m surprised he even passed the assessment.”

“Is he from Balmorra?” Shiro prodded, shifting the data in his tablet and pulling up personnel records. Matt beat him to it, leaning back on his chair and cross his arms behind his head.

“Nope. Earth, actually. He’s been with the Initiative for a year now? Guess interstellar travel didn’t do much good for his nerves.”

Shiro hummed, checking over his records. There was nothing extraordinary about Ordo’s records – guy had a family back on Earth, a wife and two kids. Both in college, wife worked as a town seamstress. Madison County, Nebraska. “Guy’s a long way from home.”

“He’s not the only one.” He looked up to find Matt grinning at him. Shiro rolled his eyes.

“At this point, Matt, ATLAS is home enough for me.” He ground out, looking around the ATHENA’s hold. That part was true – ever since the divorce, Shiro hadn’t found a reason to visit Earth again. His parents had died long ago, before Kerberos and there had been Adam, and now Curtis. Sure, he’d visit sometimes – for Hunk and Lance, who have gone on to return to their families, and Hunk could guilt anyone to coming for his birthday – Shiro included, Admiral of the Fleet duties be damned.

“That’s true,” Matt agreed, before turning back to the screen before him, “but I was talking about Keith.”

“Drop it, Matt.”

“Your Admiral voice isn’t going to scare me, Shiro.”

“Damn it, Matt,” Shiro bristled – annoyed. He wanted to slam the tablet on the desk but he stopped himself – settling for letting it clatter loudly. “First Pidge, now you. Why can’t you all accept that he’s not—Keith’s not coming back. He made it clear to me.”

“Is that why you sound like you want to pummel him, then?” Matt continued, neutral. “If you’re so sure about it, then why are you still so angry? If Keith walked in here now, I’m half-sure you’d be up to thrash him about.”

Shiro groaned, praying for patience. “It’s fucking complicated, Matt.”

“Can’t believe you used that with me.”

Annoyed, Shiro stood from his chair and walked over to the window, glaring at the city below. There were a lot of problems rifting through his mind right now, and he didn’t need Matt to keep bringing up Keith all the time. “Because it is. What’s your angle here, Matt? What do you get out of pissing me off?”

“Well, one, it’s certainly better than the lethargic dump you’ve been in for years.” Matt stated, quite bluntly. Shiro had to nod, knowing Matt wasn’t off on the dump thing. “Two, this could be an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone.”

“What are you talking about?”

Matt closed the screen, and shifted to seat himself on his desk instead. His hair was in a ponytail, and Shiro watched as he pulled the band out and combed his fingers through his hair. It wasn’t as neat as Keith’s – Shiro noted, bitterly. Keith’s hair seemed silken, the intricate detail of his braid seemingly ceremonial. Matt’s was haphazard, which was the usual for him.

“You can finally get all the bad air out now,” Matt said, raising a hand. Shiro looked away, gritting his teeth.

“I don’t see much hope with that, considering I just did a few hours ago and nothing seemed to have changed.”

Matt gave him a look. “I get that you’re pissed, but you coming off angry all the time won’t help your case. Give the guy time, and he’ll open up to you. If you need to take your anger out, fine, have him spar with you.”

Shiro crossed his arms, still working his jaw through the thing. “Fine, that could be a plan. If he agrees to it.”

“I’ll work Keith.” Matt waved the concern away, raising another finger. “Use him for the mission. Ceyk knows you, me and the Initiative. He knows the Blades are here, but he doesn’t know who Keith is. All Ceyk knows is that there’s a third Blade member, but he didn’t get to see who that third member was.”

“Look, Matt, my personal issue with Keith aside, I’m not willing to send someone into probable enemy territory alone — not when the consequences outweigh the gains. If he gets discovered, this could blow up in our faces.”

Matt stood from the desk, crossing his arms. “Shiro, we have to look at this from a wider perspective. There are too many unknowns for us to make our move. If you and I honestly believed that it’s just a simple robbery, I wouldn’t be this uncomfortable — but it’s more than that. I know that, and you know that. Hell, Keith probably already knew that. The guy’s a loyal Blade, seeing that tablet must have been a slap to his face.”

“Can we not send someone else? Anyone from Counter-Terrorism or Intelligence?” Even saying the words, Shiro knew the answer already. A single member of the Blade of Marmora could probably outperform an entire team from the ATLAS Initiative’s Intelligence force. Not to say that Matt’s men were lousy, but the Blades’ millennia-long training in subterfuge and espionage was unparalleled — especially when things went sour. ATLAS agents were tough, but still woefully unprepared to the majority of threats they could possibly face on different star sectors.

Keith’s training — as a Senior Blade and a former Paladin — would not only make him a valuable spy, but one capable of defending himself from a vast number of counterintelligence responses. Still, Keith’s strengths were not in question. Everything else was.

Matt didn’t dignify Shiro’s question with a response — he knew Shiro got to the same conclusion as he did.

“Shiro, you know that I value Keith as a friend, and that I would never want to see him hurt — but we can’t look at this and not remember that we’re leaders, that we’re here for a bigger purpose. That has to take precedence above all else, you know that.”

“I know,” Shiro breathed. “I just — I just can’t stop thinking of the many things that could go wrong.”

He knew that Matt knew that. They haven’t broken down the plan yet, but there were too many unknowns in Sobrik City for Shiro to be comfortable with what they were planning. It was exactly the reason why they needed to do this — Shiro knew that. They needed light on this situation, before something worse than transport hijacking happened. He didn’t want to blink and see bombs exploding around them.

The ATLAS Initiative was held back from fully utilizing its resources here – doing so would alarm the Balmorrans, and paint the Initiative as an invading force. They didn’t need that, Shiro knew. Not when some of the star systems were beginning to question the Initiative’s growing expansion across sectors.

He didn’t want to call reinforcements from ATLAS Command, either. The suits who made up the Terran Security Council would not hesitate to force him: put the planet under martial law, raise a gun to every Balmorran and ensure that they stand down and obey. That was too much — and Shiro knew that there were times when that had to happen, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t find it in him to do so.

“We need to see if he’ll agree first.” Shiro put up, even though he was sure it was just a flimsy delay. Both he and Matt knew Keith would accept the mission, without hesitation. Something about Keith’s demeanor right now said as much.

“And a plan — a detailed one.” Matt’s voice was somber as he pulled up a data sheet and whatever layout they could produce of Sobrik City. Their scans from off-planet didn’t provide much — the still high-levels of blaster radiation from the orbital bombardment messed with the ATHENA’s drone satellites’ sensors.

Shiro stood, watching the city’s skyline from the window. It didn’t seem like ruins — not anymore. Something was hiding in the city, something big — he could feel it — and that discomfort in the pit of his stomach only increased the need to know what it was. They’ll need to make their move soon, waiting it out would only give whoever was sabotaging them a bigger opportunity for something worse.

He was confident in the ATHENA’s weaponry and defense systems and that, most of all, was the entire reason why he didn’t want this to escalate any further. He’s had enough of bloodshed.

“ATLAS, get me Keith and the Blades.”

 

* * *

 

Shiro saw Keith standing by the observation deck, hands on the railing as he looked at Sobrik City. It was almost a mirror image of what he had been doing earlier from Intelligence, eyeing the remains and wondering what was going on down there. He remembered their earlier spat in the elevator, and he had half a mind to turn around and walk away.

He didn’t — this wasn’t about that. This was about the mission, and the things hiding past the surface of what had been a simple supply drop. Quietly, Shiro climbed the steps and stood a few paces behind Keith.

He knew the other was aware of his presence, given the movement of his head. Keith didn’t turn, though — he kept looking at Sobrik.

“I didn’t want to agree to this.” Shiro said, suddenly. It was the truth, and a part of him wanted Keith to know that. This morning had been a run down of Shiro wanting to tell Keith everything and he guessed that this was just one more nick up a very long line. “A lot of things could go wrong.”

“Someone out there wanted to put the blame on us.” Keith answered lowly. He seemed contemplative, but he knew that the other was keeping an ear out for everything else. “I want to know why.”

“We’ll find out soon.” Shiro didn’t need to word out that they really will, because Keith will be the one to bring the information in. He’s never had the opportunity — not often, anyway — to see Keith in action, and though a part of him wanted to, a bigger part of Shiro didn’t want it to happen like this, with so many things on the line.

“Akosha will be diving into the tablet.” Keith remarked. “Vadir will be tailing the supply transports when they arrive, get visuals on who or what is hijacking them.”

“I trust that you know yours?”

Keith nodded, and turned to face Shiro. There was a grim set to his lips, with a tinge of resignation — as if Keith was used to this. “Don’t worry, I’ll find out what’s happening there.”

“Intelligence will be ready for you, every second.” Shiro added, though he knew Keith was already quite aware. He had been very thorough during the briefing with Matt. Still, that didn’t mean shit. Everyone in that room knew the truth: if shit hit the fan in Sobrik City, Keith will have to pull himself out there without assistance from ATLAS or the ATHENA.

It’s what’s eating at Shiro — not only was he sending someone into unknown charts, it had to be Keith. The constant shift of his emotions whenever it involved the other refused to leave him, and Shiro’s half a mind to turn this entire ship around and leave.

They both know Shiro wouldn’t do that — now that they realize something’s up, he can’t rest, not without shedding more to the situation. Balmorra was miserable, and to be honest — insignificant in the whole thing — but something about it had the hair on Shiro’s nape on end.

Beyond the windows, the refugee camps were putting their lights up. Inside the ATHENA, chatter bustled from the officers below, unaware of the wind whipping outside and against the ship. A sand storm was brewing — and that was going to be a cause for concern with security. Fortunately, the ATLAS A.I was programmed to ready itself for it. All Shiro needed was to double check that — it was going to be a long night, too.

“Will the sandstorm be a problem?” Shiro asked. This close to the windows, Shiro could hear the wind thumping against the glass.

“Most people would run for cover and shelter during a sandstorm.” Keith noted. “No one in their right mind would be out in a storm this strong, giving us an opportunity to slip into the city undetected. Whoever will be out to keep watch is going to be a red flag for us.”

“And you’re sure you can brave through this?” Shiro double-checked. For all the missions they’ve gone on together as Paladins, this would be the first for him to see Keith brave a natural force of nature. Even back on Earth, sandstorms were no joke. Cities have been ravaged by them — who knew how insane it was going to be on a planet like Balmorra, that seemed more and more like a desert world.

“It would be my first, but not the worst I’ve had to go through.” The other answered, turning back to him. There was a small smile there — a bit of amusement. It pulled at Shiro, and before he could remember his earlier anger and outburst, there was a mirror of it on his lips, too.

“One of these days, I want to hear everything.” He said, without thinking.

Keith must have thought the same because the smile fell and his head angled lower. Shiro could kick himself if it didn’t make him look insane — knowing he had, once again, overstepped. Silence grew between them, punctuated only by the voices of the cadets down below rising up to the observation deck.

“We have a mission to get through first.” Keith finally spoke. He was turned away, leaning against the railing. The outside sky — a mishmash of crimson and purple — colored his outline in red. Soon, the stars will start shining though it’d be impossible to see them through the sand in the air.

Shiro didn’t respond to that, choosing to walk forward and lean on the railing beside Keith. He crossed his arms, and rested his chin on them, arching his back. His gaze was towards the city, but he wasn’t really seeing it — out of focus, his mind running through different scenarios that it took a moment for him to realize Keith had spoken.

“What’s on your mind?”

Shiro breathed out noisily. “How badly I want to suit up, grab a rifle and go with you out there.”

“Like old times?” There was almost a snort in there, and Shiro felt the corner of his lips quirk up.

“If I recall correctly, I had a laser blade, and it was Lance with the rifle.”

A few thumps of the wind on the glass, and Shiro stood back up, still gripping the rails. Keith hadn’t moved — still in the same spot. “If it were anyone else, would you send them out there?”

“No.” Shiro had to be blunt. “I couldn’t trust anyone else to be capable enough for this.”

“I appreciate the honesty.” Keith motioned with a hand to the outside, “and you trusting me for this.”

“Whatever—” Shiro cleared his throat, swallowing down the awkwardness boiling up at the topic. He powered through the urge to turn his back and leave Keith and this entire thing, and forced himself to face the other. “Whatever’s going on between us doesn’t change the fact that you’re our best agent onsite. You’re talented, Keith, and skilled — a little bit too skilled. You’re our best chance on this mission.”

“You’re also saying that if I fuck this up, it’s on me and nobody else.”

Shiro hated that — hated hearing it. Worst of all, he hated that Keith was right. “It’s too risky. We can’t afford to have this traced back to ATLAS.”

“I know.” He didn’t sound bothered by Shiro’s statement — his voice was cool, ready. “If things go wrong, I’ll find a way back.”

 _I hope so._ Shiro thought. _There’s still too much that I need to know, and you’re not escaping me that easily._

“How,” Keith started — and it was his turn to sound awkward, something Shiro wasn’t used to hearing, not from this Keith. “How are the rest?”

He wasn’t facing Shiro, and Shiro held back the urge to turn the other and look into his eyes — tired of the duplicity and the slipperiness and the way Keith played with his words. Still, there was a mission up and he didn’t want to leave things with the other on an entirely bad note. He knew how out of line he was with his earlier statement — even if it felt freeing to get it off his chest. “They’re doing well. Lance is back with his family, heard he’s gonna be an uncle soon. Hunk, too. They’re both retired, but Hunk still volunteers as a consultant for the ATLAS’ R&D. Sometimes, Lance joins our first-contact teams.”

“I’m not surprised,” Keith commented, a small smile on his lips. “Lance really grew up, didn’t he?”

Nostalgia lingered in Keith’s words, and Shiro pondered on that — recalling that Keith and Lance were in the same cadet batch at the Galaxy Garrison. Thinking about it, sometimes, has Shiro pausing — wondering if he had dreamt up his life as a Paladin. It was hard to remember most of the days before that.

“Pidge is with the Coalition, at Olkarion.” Shiro continued, not wanting to dwell in the past and what had happened. He had always been about what’s forward — even through Adam and Curtis. Better to leave ghosts buried, six feet under the ground. “Coran and Romelle are back at New Altea, with the rest.”

Then, before he could chicken out, Shiro spoke. “They missed you.”

Keith nodded at that, but didn’t say anything. Shiro settled for eyeing the red of his hood, the light catching on the intricate designs.

“I missed you.” Shiro admitted, tired of pretending. “I’m missing you, even now.”

Keith swallowed, and he could see the other’s lips working, trying to find a response to that. Shiro would have waited for that, if he could — but there were bigger things than them, right now. Things larger than all the unresolved issues, the walls that refused to come down.

“Just be careful?” Shiro asked. “Come back to us. I don’t want you lost in there.”

He didn’t think about the implications of his words, on what they meant and what they’re trying to mean. Shiro was completely aware of how he sounded — and that the words spilling past his lips were more than just about the mission, touching on the things they both refused to speak without vitriol. Maybe a part of that is Shiro’s fault, for letting his emotions get the better of him. Or, perhaps, that was exactly what was needed: to put things into complete display, without the lies and the facades.

“I will.” Keith swore, and Shiro blinked before he could stop himself — because he heard _Keith_ then. Not the keep-away dull tone, or the one that feigned distance. “I promise.”

“Thank you.” That much was true, and heartfelt and everything Shiro wanted to say and hoped Keith would hear.

The mission was to start late into the night, when the sand storm hit its apex, and he knew Keith would have to prepare for it. Shiro didn’t want to keep him up, and be a distraction on top of anything else. He had his own preparations to do, and he needed to check with Matt on the updates from Pidge’s end regarding the tablet.

Nodding at Keith, Shiro turned and walked away, the emotions that continued to clash in him settling for the meantime. His legs stopped, and his hands turned to fists when his ears caught something else.

“Shiro.”

It’s been — it’s been so long since he last heard Keith say his name that Shiro had to stop, had to still himself and make sure it wasn’t his mind playing tricks because that was going to be alarming. It would be too alarming and painful, even for him, to realize that his mind was trying to form the words and the sound — the notes and reverb and octaves — in attempt to ease whatever ache was running through him.

Keith had said his name, and the way his tongue rolled around the syllables and the letters, the way it sounded from him — Shiro had forgotten that sound.

“Keith?” He echoed, unable to say anything else. His voice was reedy, light, filled to the brim with the surprise and the absence of anything remotely confident. Keith’s eyes glittered under the lights, his hood raised enough that Shiro could map his face without much difficulty.

Hesitation painted the corners of his lips, the lines between his brows, and the scar on the left side of his face was a vivid red against the paleness. Shiro couldn’t even find the energy to move, no matter how much he wanted to put his thumb against the scar, feel it and wish that he could erase it with his touch.

“I—” Keith’s voice wobbled for a moment, and he paused. “I missed you, too.”

Shiro—

He had waited so long to hear those words. Now that he did, he didn’t know what to do. He had no idea where to find the next line of action, not when there was warmth running through his veins, mingling with the cold and erasing the wrongness that had long settled in his stomach. He may have nodded, or said something or maybe didn’t even do anything at all — he’s not really sure.

What he knew, definitely, was the heat on his back, Keith’s gaze on him and the voice in his repeating over and over.

 _It’s not goodbye._ It spoke, and Shiro wanted to believe that. He really did. _It’s not goodbye._

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think of the story so far!
> 
> You can catch me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/spaceboykenny)!


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